


From an Outside Point of View

by werit



Category: Undertale
Genre: Chara & Frisk (Undertale) Share a Body, Fluff and Angst, Gen, High School, Nonbinary Chara (Undertale), Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader is not Frisk or Chara (Undertale), Sharing a Body, Some Plot, Teenage Chara (Undertale), Teenage Frisk (Undertale), Teenagers, Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 27,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25195105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werit/pseuds/werit
Summary: You're new to Ebott--the town of monsters and magic, as presented by their tourism board. Life is difficult enough switching schools as an incoming sophomore, but maintaining friendships with people straight out of a fantasy book? It might be a challenge for some, but it's one you're trying your best to take on.Meanwhile, the ambassador is dealing with quite a few problems--and not all of them are as visible as hate groups. Three years of progress is a lot to lose, and they're doing their best to ensure it never happens again.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 56
Collections: Fanfiction From The Chara Defense Squad





	1. Greetings and Meetings

You drop the moving crate you're carrying onto the floor of your new room. You don't really know what to expect in Ebott, other than, you know, monsters. And magic. Because **those** are real things now. You guess you should be more used to it, but all the commotion has been pretty damn far away from you until now. Living close to everything, you expect, will throw you way out of your comfort zone. You've been looking at monster activism stuff online--the last thing you'd want is to be accidentally offensive, or racist. The ambassador's blog is especially helpful, and it's made you a lot more comfortable thinking about living near monsters.

Another one of the reasons you agreed with your parents to move is because your online buddy Kid lives here, and apparently, you're both going to attend the same high school. Kid's a monster, but they've never said what kind, or shared any pictures of themself. You don't really know if it's rude to ask (as it turns out, the askbox of a world-famous diplomat/child prodigy is rather busy), so you just don't mention it. While you unpack the first of many boxes you've unloaded from the moving truck, you text them.

_heya Kid! just arrived in Ebott, when are you free to hang out? my parents will probably want me unpacking for at least an hour, but after that you can show me the hangout spot you've been gushing abt_

A few moments later, you get a response. _Yo! You're already here? I didn't think you were gonna arrive for at least a week, haha. In that case, there's a summer party thing going on at my friend's house tonight. If you wanna come, I'm like a hundred percent sure they'd be fine with it._

_are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your friend_

_Totally! They're like, the most understanding person EVER and the party is open-door anyway. It starts at six..._

They continue by giving you the address, and tell you that "you'll love it, haha!" It looks like you might have a chance to make more than one friend before school starts in September.

* * *

When you arrive, you notice a fatal flaw in your plan to meet Kid--you don't know what they look like, what they sound like... god, you're kind of a shitty friend. You're about to text them when the door opens, and a yellow lizard monster with no arms walks out. "Yo, ______, is that you?" they say.

"Kid?"

"Yo! It's so awesome to see you!" He gestures you inside, and you follow them into the house. The main hallway is loud and packed, and you manage to stick close enough to Kid to hear them say, "Hey, over here! I wanna introduce you to my friends!"

You follow them to a room off to the side, which houses a pool table (sick) and a large, flat-screen TV with a bunch of old game consoles on the stand below it (very sick). Whoever is hosting this party, you approve of their taste. Kid gestures to everyone else, gathered around the TV. They're watching... something loud and flashy, with lots of glitter? Oh, that has to be a Mettaton thing. Kid loves to rant about this show, usually about how dumb it is, but he _claims_ that occasionally, there are moments of pure brilliance. Right now, everyone's rolling around in glitter, and all of their words are bleeped out. You'll have to take their word for it.

"Hey everyone!" Kid gets their attention, "this is ______, they just moved here! Here's Snowy, Yew, Kyla--oh and Jake--" They list off about ten more names, each accompanied by a smile and wave. About a third of the group is humans, which surprises you a bit.

And then Kid says something that catches your attention. "Oh, and sorry you haven't met Frisk yet, they're off with their mom in another room."

"Frisk?" You ask, "Like, Frisk Dreemurr, Frisk? The monster ambassador?"

"Oh my god!" Kid screeches, "Did I not tell you? I'm such a dumbass, we've been friends for like years, way back since like, before the barrier broke! We have algebra II together!"

Kid knows Frisk Dreemurr? Kid is FRIENDS with Frisk Dreemurr? Kid is in the same ALGEBRA class as the monster ambassador? You're going to be in the same high school as the monster ambassador, maybe the same classes? Forget that, you're in the same house as them, right now? Your life has officially gotten a hundred times more interesting, and about two hundred times more anxiety-inducing.

You sit down on an ottoman in the middle of the room, and you think Kid can tell you're freaking out a bit, because they lower their voice and say, "Hey, you know Frisk is just like, a person, right?"

"I'm just so used to thinking of them as like this celebrity activist, I guess," you admit, "it's weird to think that I might get to know them, like personally."

"You know," Kid scrunches up their face. You recognize that voice: it's the one they use when they pretend to be insightful. "They say that you should never meet your idols."

"Uh," you stammer, not liking where this is going.

"But you should TOTALLY meet Frisk!" Kid pushes you onto your feet with their forehead (what?) and starts running you down the hall (WHAT?), calling "FRISK!"

* * *

As it turns out, Frisk is literally in the next room. By now, you've decided that dignity wins out over anxiety, and as you walk into the room, you wear a nervous smile. "Frisk!" Kid calls, and the ambassador turns around. 

"Kid!" they blurt out, and nearly tackle Kid in a hug. "How's it going?"

"Yo, Frisk, hey!" Kid's voice is muffled from Frisk's aggressive embrace, "You're gonna crush me!"

Frisk relents, and when they step back, they notice you standing (slightly awkwardly) in the doorway. "Hi! We haven't met, right?"

You shake your head. "Uh, hey. I'm ______, I'm friends with Kid. Just moved here."

"Pleasure to meet you!" Frisk smiles and offers a handshake. You take it, and are immediately rewarded with the sound of a... whoopie cushion?

"Oh my GOD," they groan, "Sans!" A short skeleton walks up, and Frisk hands the cushion to him, and whispers something that sounds awfully like "Ruin your own damn introductions, trashbag.."

You decide to break the ice. "I've, uh, read part of your blog... It's really good!"

"Really?" Frisk, snapping back to you, seems surprised, "I'm always kinda disappointed when I post. It feels like I can always do better somehow."

"But--just having information and stuff about monsters, like, on the front page of your site... It helped me understand them, and I don't think you can go wrong with that. Like, it helped me get over the, uh, whole 'fear of the unknown' thing when moving here. It really did."

You talk for a while more about monster stuff, before changing topics to high school. You'll both be attending the creatively named Ebott High, and you're both going to be sophomores. Frisk, unsurprisingly, is taking political science classes a year early, so most of their schedule is out-of-sync. You do have English Composition together though--something to look forward too.

In a few more minutes, they have to go, and you return with Kid to the room you were in before. You play a few rounds of pool with the group before your parents text, and you're walking back home. The night went surprisingly well, for meeting both your friend face-to-face for the first time, and a GOD DAMN INTERSPECIES AMBASSADOR.


	2. The New Chat and the Other Diplomat

It's been a long week since you arrived at Ebott. You've been pretty busy unpacking, but in the evenings you've been hanging out with Kid and some of their friends by the lake. You haven't talked to the ambassador--Frisk--since the party (which you have since found out was at their house, what the fuck). 

Since your computer stuff arrived this morning, you've been glued to the screen, wasting time watching YouTube videos and playing video games. Your phone buzzes, and you glance at the screen. It's a text from Kid, something about a chat server?

_Yo! Frisk just made a chatroom for school friends to hang our in and schedule hangouts and stuff! If you wanna join, feel free, cause so far it's just them, me, and like six or seven other people from English, haha_

_yeah sure,_ you reply, _what's the link?_

Kid sends you an invite. You click on it, and it brings you to an untitled chatroom. A list of rules pops up. 

_Rules:  
_

  1. _Be kind to each other! You too, Flowey!  
_ (You wonder if that's a nickname, or if some mom actually named their poor child that. It seems cruel, even for monsters.)
  2. _If you're new, tell us two facts about yourself and one lie in the #new_members channel!  
_ (Oh god, you hate talking about yourself. It's your least favorite subject.)
  3. _Please use your real name as your username!_
  4. _If you have any questions, DM me! I might not answer it right away because I'm pretty busy, though._



☐ _Accept these rules?_

You tick the box, and you're allowed to register. Once you do, the chaos reveals itself. In #main, there are like, five people talking about the summer assignment (which you haven't even started yet, despite school starting in two weeks). Meanwhile, the #anime_discussion channel is home to a heated debate about the merits and failings of Mew Mew Kissie Cutie 2. You decide to stay out of that one. You decide to follow Rule 2, and switch over to #new_members.

> _______: hi everyone_
> 
> _______: I'm friends with kid, and here's the two truths and a lie thing:_
> 
> _______: my favorite subject is math, i've both skipped a grade and had to repeat a grade, and i hate sweet food_
> 
> _Kyla: yeah,_ _I'm calling BS on the sweet food thing, there's no way._
> 
> _______: any other guesses?_
> 
> _Flowey: How can anyone like math class? That's gotta be the lie._

You switch away from the chatroom and watch some more YouTube for a few minutes while everyone guesses. Then, you get pinged.

> _sn0wproblem:_ _So which one is it, @Blinki83?_
> 
> _______: well, the rules never said I had to tell which was which_
> 
> _Fuku: ..._
> 
> _Snowdrake: bruh... not cool!_
> 
> _Flowey: HAHAHAHA!!!!!!_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Oh my god.  
> _
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: I'm gonna go fix that, lmao._

You chuckle out loud to yourself.

> _______: but do i have to tell tho?_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: It's fine lol, not if you don't want to._

* * *

Meanwhile, across town, the ambassador leans back at their desk. Although it was stressful, setting up a place to chat was a great idea, they think.

"Oh god, that new kid is a prankster, too?" They say to... themselves? No.

 **-I'm not sure, Frisk.** \- Chara's voice echoes inside the ambassador's head. - **They seem fishy, I want to look into it.-**

"Come on," Frisk groans, "Why are you always so suspicious of every new human that joins the group? Besides, how are you going to 'look into it?' Stalk their Instagram? Cause you can't use my account, not after you did that to Kyla and accidentally liked one of her old photos. I don't wanna have to clean up another mess like that."

**-I don't fucking know, I'm just being cautious. I don't like this many new factors, it makes me nervous. Something's going to go wrong, and then we'll have to...-**

"They're PEOPLE, not factors."

**-I guess. It's just, difficult for me to really feel like a part of the group. You know, since I can't actually interact with anybody in it except you and Flowey.-**

...

"Well..."

* * *

An hour later (and after a few episodes of Fullmetal Alchemist), you return to the computer. There are more unread messages in the #new_members channel. You scroll up to see the first one since you left.

> _Cocoa: Greetings!_


	3. The Frisk, the Ghost, and the Invitation

"Really?" Flowey asks, "Fucking... Cocoa? That's the username you went with? Golly, our family sure has a hard time naming things, huh?"

" **Shut up,** " Chara mutters, " **I'm trying to be inconspicuous. Besides, I can always change it later."**

-Um, no. Changing your name is a paid feature. Something about stopping bots...-

" **What? That's bullshit.** **Like I'm going to buy a monthly fucking subscription just to change my username, fuck that."**

> _Cocoa: Greetings!_
> 
> _Cocoa: Frisk exempted me from the truth/lie game, at least until later._
> 
> _Cocoa: So, hello everyone! How's it going?_

"Well, I think the name suits you," Frisk butts in, switching back into the "driver's seat."

**-Thank you.-**

"After all, you ARE pretty... hot."

"Oh my fucking god, Frisk," Flowey wears his most disgusted face, and you can feel Frisk's smug pride. "Holy shit. That joke is so bad, and SO wrong."

* * *

While the ambassador, flower, and ghost bicker in the former's bedroom, you finish reading the messages you missed.

> _FriskDreemurr: Glad you could make it, Cocoa!_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: OK, I think that's everyone thats coming for now, so I guess I'll say this here._
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Welcome, everyone! I got tired of people not knowing eachother so I made this chatroom to introduce everyone to each other!_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: I know pretty much all of you well enough to say you're all gonna get along. And to everyone who only really knows one or two people here:_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Welcome! These are most of my friends, aka THE BEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD._
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: I think I'm gonna lock this channel up until new people join, so it doesn't get too confusing._

Those are the last posted messages on the #new_members channel. You check the others, which have all died down (save for the "discussion" in the #anime channel which has rapidly devolved into a heated debate about Death of the Author), then realize you have some unread DMs: three from Kid and one from another member of the server, the kid named Cocoa. You elect to read Kid's messages first.

> _Kid: Yo, so glad you decided to join!_
> 
> _Kid: I figured that you might wanna get introduced in a more casual setting than a dinner party, haha._
> 
> _Kid: I also thought you'd probably need help making some new friends, moving to a new city and all. Don't worry, I'll help you even if I have to physically push you towards friendship again_

You chuckle, then begin to reply.

> _______: i guess you've noticed how pathetically inept i am at meeting new ppl. knew i couldn't hide it from you forever_
> 
> _______: thanks for the invite, it seems like a fun group_
> 
> _______: btw if you want to do something this weekend like see a movie i'm so damn bored and i want to get away from the house_
> 
> _______: my parents are making me unpack EVERYTHING_

While you wait for Kid to reply, you check the message from Cocoa.

> _Cocoa: Greetings! It's been a while since I've initiated a conversation unprompted, so you'll have to forgive me if I come off as a bit stuffy._

That's... a strange thing to say. Whatever, you begin typing a message back.

> _______: lol no problem_
> 
> _______: what's up?_
> 
> _Cocoa: Nothing really, I guess. I'm just extremely bored._
> 
> _______: mood_
> 
> _______: hey actually me and kid were gonna do something this weekend if you wanna join us_
> 
> _Cocoa: I don't think I can actually do that._
> 
> _______: why not?_

* * *

Chara stares at the unanswered question on the laptop screen.

"Lie out of your ass," Flowey suggests.

" **I don't want to get making contradictory lies** ," they rebut, " **That's the easiest way for me to lose my cover.** "

-And, also, it's rude to lie to people.- Frisk interjects, -Then again, it's also rude to try to 'investigate' somebody under the pretense of friendship.- Chara, of course, ignores them.

"So what are you going to do?" Flowey drawls sweetly, "Because you can't tell them the truth, obviously."

" **I can just, like, tell them enough to make them think it's the whole story.** "

* * *

> _Cocoa: I'm not physically IN Ebott right now, actually._
> 
> _______: oh you're still on vacation?_
> 
> _Cocoa: Something like that, yes._
> 
> _______: gotcha_
> 
> _______: maybe the 3 of us could watch a movie on crunchyroll or something then_
> 
> _Cocoa: That should work then!_

Look at you, making friends already! Kid would be proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative dialogue if Chara was just a bit more gutsy:  
> ______: oh you're still on vacation?  
> Cocoa: Yes, from this mortal coil.


	4. Cinema, or the Ultimate Spectator Sport

Two days later...

> **You invited Kid and Cocoa to the room.**
> 
> **Kid has joined the room.**
> 
> _Kid: Yo ______!_
> 
> _______: heya_
> 
> **Cocoa has joined the room.**
> 
> _______: i got crunchyroll all loaded up_
> 
> _______: so what should we watch?_
> 
> _Cocoa: Well do you guys wanna watch a good movie or a bad movie?_
> 
> _Kid: Oh, definitely a bad movie._
> 
> _Kid: With a good movie everyone's paying attention to things like "plot" and "characters," but with a bad movie we can just fuck around, haha._
> 
> _______: lol okay_
> 
> _______: got any ideas?  
> _
> 
> _Cocoa: METTATON THE MOVIE 12._
> 
> _Kid: Oh god._
> 
> _______: wait_
> 
> _______: mettaton's the robot monster actor right?_
> 
> _______: hasn't he only been in like 2 movies?_
> 
> _Kid: Since he got up to the surface, yeah._
> 
> _Kid: In the underground, he had a whole SERIES._
> 
> _Cocoa: They started out pretty okay, but once he became a hit, they just devolved in quality because nobody dared to tell him what to do._
> 
> _Cocoa: This one was kind of the turning point between "bad but redeemable" and just absolute shit._
> 
> _Kid: I've actually never seen it, the ratings are so, so bad._
> 
> _______: youre kidding_
> 
> _______: and he kept making more?_
> 
> _Kid: Yeah..._
> 
> _Kid: He made FIFTEEN more._
> 
> _______: what the fuck_
> 
> _Cocoa: You know, I'm not sure it's on Crunchyroll, or anywhere online for that matter._
> 
> _Cocoa: But I have a ripped copy... with directors commentary! So I can stream it to you guys!_
> 
> _______: whod even direct a movie that shitty?_
> 
> _Cocoa: Take a wild fucking guess._

* * *

> _______: im so confused_
> 
> _______: mettaton needs to attract a studio to make a movie..._
> 
> _______: so he makes the movie himself? how does that fuckin help?_
> 
> _Kid: It's not just you, this is making zero sense so far, haha._
> 
> _Kid: Wait, I just realized something._
> 
> _Kid: This movie is about the MAKING of ITSELF._
> 
> _Cocoa: :)_
> 
> _Kid: Because that's exactly what happened to Mettaton in real life!_
> 
> _Kid: His studio finally said no to his shitty ideas, so he started funding his movies himself._
> 
> _______: but why is he still trying to get the studio in the movie then_
> 
> _______: wouldnt it make more sense if he just said "fuck it i don't need you guys"_
> 
> _Kid: I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that's the moral at the end._
> 
> _Kid: Am I right, Cocoa?  
> _
> 
> _Cocoa: No spoilers. ;)_
> 
> _Kid: OH MY GOD I COULD NOT CARE LESS ABOUT SPOILERS FOR THIS SHITTY MOVIE, JUST TELL ME._
> 
> _Cocoa: ;)_

* * *

> _Kid: And the best part is, for the next few movies, he decided that the reason they failed was because, get this, they weren't long enough._
> 
> _______: yeah sitting through an hour and a half of this garbage is bad enough_
> 
> _Kid: So the next few movies were just so long, like I mean Lord of the Rings long._
> 
> _Cocoa: Yeah, and because he was basically bleeding money the production value kept going down._
> 
> _Cocoa: The last five movies were single shots of him lying down on various surfaces with rose petals falling down onto him._
> 
> _______: i don't think im ever gonna be able to watch a movie with him in it again seriously now_
> 
> _Kid: Yeah, he REALLY needed some creative direction._
> 
> _Cocoa: Thank god for Napstablook._

* * *

> _Kid: Is it finally over?_
> 
> _Kid: Oh COME ON._
> 
> _Kid: We don't care about the forced romantic interest, we don't care about the pointless love triangle!_
> 
> _Kid: And he completely forgot about the boyfriend he was supposed to have from the last three movies! The continuity mistakes, oh my god._
> 
> _Cocoa: I think that's because the actor was hired through the studio, and obviously he had a falling out._
> 
> _______: so kid you've seen the first 11 movies?_
> 
> _Kid: Yeah!_
> 
> _Kid: The first six or so were like, very good! Which made the next five, which just sucked ass, so much worse._
> 
> _Kid: I never saw number twelve until now, and I can't say that I was missing out on much._
> 
> _Cocoa: So what you're saying is, in order to get the full "Mettaton the Movie" experience you have to watch them all so you can see them deteriorate._
> 
> _Kid: Oh please god no._
> 
> _______: yeah ima be real chief this is painful enough as it is_
> 
> _______: i dont think i could handle the "full experience" tbh_
> 
> _Kid: Speaking of which, ARE YOU DONE EXPLAINING YOUR UNDYING LOVE, YOU SADISTIC BASTARD?_

* * *

> ______ _: well_
> 
> _______: that was an experience_
> 
> _Cocoa: God, I love watching shitty movies._
> 
> _Cocoa: It's just so fun to rip something apart, you know what I mean?_
> 
> _Kid: Yeah, I guess._
> 
> _Kid: It's just weird when it's something you REALLY WANTED to be good, you get me?_
> 
> _Kid: Like someone passing up a chance at redemption._
> 
> _Kid: Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the hell out of dunking on this crapfest, but I still wish it was better, haha._
> 
> _Cocoa: Anyway, I gotta go to bed. See you guys later!_
> 
> _**Cocoa has left the room.** _
> 
> _Kid: Lol, same. See ya!_
> 
> _______: cya_
> 
> _**Kid has left the room.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluff for today. Don't worry, there's some angsty stuff coming, you monsters. :)


	5. The Assignment and the Enigma

Kid has convinced you that you need to do some schoolwork. Fortunately, he also hadn't started on the English summer assignment, so you're both reading the assigned novel together: Fahrenheit 451.

"Yo, I'm gonna be honest," Kid says, "I'm gonna have to look all this up again, I am NOT gonna remember this for the quiz."

"Well, I read this as an eighth-grader," you groan, "So I remember, like, just enough to answer every question, uh, confidently but incorrectly. And it SUCKS rereading stuff for school!"

"Dude, tell me about it! Like, in the underground there were like, five books that we read EVERY YEAR, and like, the questions and analysis and stuff got deeper and stuff, but it was SO BORING."

"What is monster literature like?" you ask, "I don't think I've read any from before you made it to the surface."

"Uh," Kid pauses. "I might be like, biased from reading it a ton but it's really kinda boring. Because everyone was so close together, the styles of everything seemed just kinda like, the same, at least the stuff I was reading. Like, on the surface there's all this variation between writing styles and stuff but when there was any good new novel published underground it was always, like, top of the news stuff."

"Huh." You finish the chapter you're on, and you put down the book. You're more interested in the conversation now, anyway.

"Yeah, monster media was kinda stagnant for a LONG time, haha. You were asking why stars like Mettaton, uh, made it big down there, it's cause people were always wanting something new."

"Even if it is a shitshow."

"Exactly, haha." Kid also puts down his book. "That was actually really fun last night, watching a bad movie was a great idea!"

"It totally was. I'll have to ask Cocoa if they can do it again. Oh shit, actually, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, yeah!"

"Is it, like, rude to ask what type of monster someone is?" Kid blinks, and you explain further. "Like, I was super nervous when I first met you, and I don't think you ever told me--"

"Nah, it isn't. I thought I told you though, haha. Wow, I kinda suck at remembering to tell you things, don't I?"

"Yeah, kinda."

You keep talking about nonsense for another half hour before Kid has to go. 

* * *

> _______: that was p fun last night_
> 
> _______: are you down to watch something else anytime soon?_
> 
> _Cocoa: Maybe, I'm not sure._
> 
> _Cocoa: If we do it, it'll have to be late at night again.  
> _
> 
> _______: gotcha_
> 
> _______: ok kinda awkward question_
> 
> _______: what type of monster are you?_
> 
> _______: only asking bc it was a disaster when i never asked kid that and i couldnt find him irl lol_

Chara snorts.

-Gross.- Frisk projects, -That's MY body. Don't get snot all over it.-

> _Cocoa: Lmao, I'm not a monster._
> 
> _Cocoa: I'm just into monster stuff._
> 
> _______: oh fuck lol_
> 
> _______: damn and i thought i felt like an idiot before_
> 
> _Cocoa: No, I totally get it._
> 
> _______: yeah but that doesnt stop me from feeling like a clown_
> 
> _Cocoa: You fool. You absolute buffoon. How dare you assume totally reasonable things about me._
> 
> _______: wait so your real name is cocoa?_

Shit.

* * *

You get a response back, but it takes a minute or two. You wonder if you accidentally hit on a sore subject.

> _Cocoa: No._
> 
> _______: shit is it like a deadname thing? cause if so im sorry_
> 
> _Cocoa: No, it's not. I asked Frisk about the rules thing. I just really prefer to stay anonymous._
> 
> _Cocoa: At least right now._
> 
> _______: aight i won't push it_
> 
> _Cocoa: Thanks._

That was weird.

* * *

That was lucky. Chara logs off, then sinks back into the background, and Frisk takes control.

"I thought you were the one trying to investigate them, not the other way around," Frisk whispers.

- **Shut up, I'm doing my best,-** Chara hisses, - **Besides, I don't see YOU helping.** -

"I'm not going to help. You want to be creepy, do it yourself." Frisk sticks out their tongue, then realizes how silly they look with nobody else in the room. They shelve the laptop, then flop onto their bed. "Y'know, that might have actually been a brilliant investigative technique."

- **I know exactly where you can stick that technique...-**

"No, I'm serious! Now we know that they're not the kind of person to abuse that knowledge about somebody."

- **Hm. Yeah, I guess. Or at the very least, they don't want to be pushy.** -

* * *

You really don't want to come off as pushy, but you have so many questions right now. Who is Cocoa? Do they even live in Ebott, because they never really gave a straight answer when you asked if they were on vacation? If they don't, how did they even meet Frisk? How do they know so much about monster media (stuff that isn't even online, you checked) if they're not a monster? About an hour later, you decide to send another message--one that might help you find some answers but won't make you seem too weird.

> _______: so how do you know frisk?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chara is kind of shit at being inconspicuous. Also, just a quick note about how the body-swapping thing works: Chara can get control of Frisk's body while Frisk sleeps, that's why they want to hang out late at night. This, of course, means that the "soulless pacifist" ending is just Chara getting excited over the butterscotch-cinnamon pie that Frisk doesn't notice because they're sleeping too deeply.


	6. The Fair and the Flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to leave kudos and comment if you're enjoying the story so far! I'd love to hear some thoughts and/or critique!

As the days pass without an answer to your question, the intrigue about your online friend falls to the back of your mind. It's quickly replaced with anxiety about school and dreading the end of summer, which comes in just a week, god damn. For the past few days, you've been mostly hanging out with Kid, Frisk, and some of their other friends--both online, and in person. You don't think you ever realized how much being included in stuff meant to you, and you just hope it lasts. You've been a part of far too many friendships that have died out over as little as three months. For now, though, you're just along for the ride.

Literally.

"Come on, dude," Kid whines, "it's a rollercoaster. It's not gonna kill you, there have GOTTA be safety regulations. Right, Frisk?"

"I mean," Frisk smirks, "I _think_ so."

"I KNOW it's an irrational fear, you dumbasses," you quip, "and it's not like I'm gonna back out, we're already in line!"

It's not like you're even afraid of rollercoasters, anyway. You just don't GET them. Why would someone decide to strap themselves into a fast-moving, open car, wind in their face, about fifty feet above the ground, with the tracks rattling beneath you, everyone is SCREAMING, and your stomach always rolls over in a way that makes you want to throw up. Where is the pleasure in that scenario, huh?

"Next!" the worker at the front of the line calls, and your heart starts beating a little bit faster. Okay, maybe you are a little bit scared of roller coasters.

Eventually, you step onto the loading platform, much to the delight of Frisk and Kid. "Next!" It's your turn. Carefully, you step from the loading platform into the cart and sit down in the sticky seat. Why does the seat have to be sticky? The bored worker reads off the safety guidelines to you all. "Alright everyone, keep all your body inside the car at all times, do not remove the lap bar or stand up while the car is in motion, stay seated at all times, and have fun!" She pulls a comically oversized lever, and the coaster begins to ascend.

"Oh man oh man oh man oh man," Frisk and Kid are chanting rapidly and in unison. Your heart seems to be beating along.

The cart reaches the crest of the hill, slows down to a crawl, then DROPS.

You're all screaming, but Frisk and Kid seem a bit more enthusiastic than you--you've moved from anxious to terrified. Your back is glued to the warm metal of the seat. You now know why it was sticky: you're sweating through your shirt. At least you didn't eat anything before the ride, because you know that if you had, you'd be seeing it again right about now.

Frisk looks like they're having the time of their life. Their eyes are wide, the wind is rushing past their face, and they're screaming in exhilaration. In reality, though, they're not so pleased.

-Oh my god, THIS is your idea of fun?! I feel like we're about to throw up, oh my god...- 

" **YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"**

* * *

After the ride ends (and your stomach settles), a message plays on the loudspeakers across the fair. "Attention, all guests! The fair closes in thirty minutes! Thank you for visiting Ebott Fair--come again soon!"

"Really?" you ask, "Closing at eight-thirty seems real fucking early."

"Yeah, they're closing earlier than usual tonight," Frisk replies, "I know one of the operators, they've gotta pack all the rides up because they're moving out of town tomorrow."

Kid laughs. "Haha, is there ANYONE in Ebott you don't know?"

"I mean, I don't know everyone. Like, I don't know THAT guy." Frisk points randomly into the crowd, then turns to look where they're pointing. They squint. "Actually... I do know that guy, he's the operator I was talking about. HEY, BURGERPANTS!"

The guy, a cat monster, turns around from the line he's directing, then waves to Frisk. They wave back. 

"Okay, that's actually kinda creepy," you tease.

"That was a COINCIDENCE. I don't know everyone." You're not sure you believe them.

"Yo, you guys wanna get something to eat before we go?" Kid gestures to a line of food trucks. There seems to be everything from sushi to hamburgers, and you're starving. You nod in agreement, and Kid grins. "C'mon!" They shout, dashing towards one advertising "junkyard dogs."

As it turns out, they're chili dogs with french fries in the bun. They taste like heart disease, and you and Kid both eat four. By the last one, you almost forget about the rollercoaster--this is what's making you want to puke. Frisk laughs at you both while they stop at a measly two. Their phone rings.

"Alright, be there in a minute! Love you too, Mom." Frisk hangs up, then addresses you both with a grin. "I've gotta go, Mom's here. This was super fun! I'll see you guys later!"

"See ya, Frisk!" Kid waves goodbye with their tail.

"Today was fun, yeah," you say with a smile, "bye!"

Frisk leaves, and you're left to joke around with Kid for a few minutes before the loudspeakers announce the fair is closing.

"Yo, you need a ride, dude?" Kid asks.

"Nah," you reply, "my house is literally like four blocks away, I just walked here. Had a ton of fun tonight, I'll see you later."

"Yeah it was! Even if you almost threw up on the coaster--"

"Did not."

"--I definitely wanna hang out again before school starts. Hit me up, haha! See ya later!" Kid runs off and almost trips over their own feet before you lose sight of them. What a nerd.

* * *

When you get home, you crash into your bed, phone in hand. You know that you're not supposed to get screen time before bed, something about blue light or whatever but you don't care, your circadian rhythm is already fucked, and it's not like you're gonna sleep in and miss class or anything. You enter your PIN and--

Oh.

Cocoa's responded.

> _Cocoa: It's kind of a long story, so I'll give you the short version._
> 
> _Cocoa: Frisk helped me out a long time ago._
> 
> _Cocoa: I was, to put it lightly, kind of a violent edgelord asshole. Now I'm just a regular edgelord asshole._
> 
> _______: lol. their words?_
> 
> _Cocoa: Nope, they're way too nice to say that. That was Flowey._

Flowey? Have they met in person?

> _Cocoa: Anyway, I literally owe Frisk pretty much everything._
> 
> _Cocoa: So yeah, we're naturally pretty close._
> 
> _______: that makes sense yeah_
> 
> _______: theyre like ridiculously competent like holy shit_
> 
> _Cocoa: I know, right! And any time you try to compliment them, they just brush it off!_
> 
> _______: how dare they be so accepting and kind_
> 
> _______: local teenager DESTROYS edgelord asshole with LOVE and KINDNESS_
> 
> _Cocoa: Aaslaskjqsdaxk._
> 
> _______: did you just keysmash_
> 
> _______: and then capitalize it_
> 
> _______: and put a fucking period at the end_
> 
> _______: like... why_
> 
> _Cocoa: Don't judge me, it looks better._
> 
> _______: its a fucking keysmash its not supposed to look good_
> 
> _Cocoa: Just because you are unable to appreciate the aesthetic of a refined keysmash doesn't mean I have to lower myself to your pathetic, baby level._
> 
> _Cocoa: "look at me i dont know how to capitalize words or use any symbols whatsoever"  
> _
> 
> _Cocoa: "pay attention to how little i care. im so fucking cool"_
> 
> _______: i didnt think it was even possible to be elitist abt keysmashing technique  
> _
> 
> _______: but somehow youve pulled it off_
> 
> _Cocoa: I always knew I was capable of the impossible._
> 
> _______: you burgeoisie bastard_
> 
> _Cocoa: You barbarian prick._

You burst out laughing. It's been a good day.

* * *

When you wake up, you hop right onto your computer, healthy sleep habits be damned. You boot up the chatroom and join the #general channel. Uh-oh; there's an argument in progress.

> _Flowey: Look, all I'm saying is that people who watch anime are dumbass weebs._
> 
> _Flowey: You don't have to take offense from that._
> 
> _Kyla: but Drake and I were literally just talking about anime tropes  
> _
> 
> _Kyla: and then you decided to join the convo just to insult the entire genre_
> 
> _Snowdrake: And US!_
> 
> _Flowey: Okay, okay! Just because you two are sensitive little snowflakes..._

Wow. What a dick.

> _Snowdrake: Fuck off, man! Not cool!_
> 
> _**FriskDreemurr (ADMIN) has muted Flowey.** _
> 
> _Snowdrake: I don't get it, Frisk, why don't you just ban him?_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: It's not fair, he has nowhere else to go._
> 
> _Kyla: it would totally be fair!_
> 
> _Kyla: he's had PLENTY of chances to improve his behavior and he never does_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: It's complicated, ok?_
> 
> _Kyla: I just don't get it, but fine_
> 
> _**FriskDreemurr (ADMIN) has unmuted Flowey.** _
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Flowey, I know you don't get it, just act polite, ok? Try to get along?_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Please?_
> 
> _Flowey: Fine. I'm sorry, or whatever._

And this was the monster who described Cocoa as a "violent asshole?" That just doesn't seem right. You decide to investigate a bit more.

You send Flowey a quick message.

> ______ _: heya i know we havent really talked but are you doing alright?_
> 
> _Flowey: Fuck off. I don't want your pity._
> 
> _______: its not pity_
> 
> _______: you just seem like youre unhappy_
> 
> _Flowey: Not exactly having the time of my life, but trust me, you're wrong._
> 
> _______: if you say so_
> 
> _______: oh i also wanted to ask you something_
> 
> _Flowey: I've got nothing better to do, I guess._
> 
> _Flowey: Scratch that. I've_ literally _got nothing else to do._
> 
> _______: cool i guess_
> 
> _______: so how do you know cocoa?_
> 
> _Flowey: Why are you asking? Did they say something about me?_
> 
> _______: idk_
> 
> _______: they say lots of stuff thats a little... off_
> 
> _______: i thought you might know why_
> 
> _Flowey: If you're worried about them, you can forget about it._
> 
> _Flowey: They know what they're doing a lot more than_ you _._
> 
> ________ _: what do you mean?_
> 
> _Flowey: I mean._
> 
> _Flowey: Whatever you think they're going through, they've gone through it a million fucking times._
> 
> _Flowey: Even if there IS a problem with their situation, you're not gonna be able to help. Nobody is!_
> 
> _______: a problem with what? whats their situation?_
> 
> _Flowey: Hee hee hee! Thank you, this is just_ too _fun! I see why they're doing this now, it never gets old to mess with people!_
> 
> _**Flowey closed the chat.** _

What the fuck was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flowey is, unsurprisingly, a bastard boy who likes to cause chaos. Also, how's that "investigation" going, Chara? Did you accidentally make a friend?


	7. Can You Really Call This Highway Robbery, I Didn't Even Leave My Neighborhood Or Anything

After a moment of shock, you re-open the chat with Flowey. Like hell if you're going to let him drag you along like some kind of game.

> _______: come on you gotta tell me more_
> 
> _Flowey: Golly, I hate to break it to you, pal, but I don't_ gotta _do anything!_
> 
> _______: dude please what is going on?_
> 
> _______: what the hell is cocoa's situation?_
> 
> _Flowey: Oh I can't tell you that. You can't even IMAGINE the consequences._
> 
> _Flowey: And not just for me! This is for your own good, trust me. ;)_
> 
> _______: bro i swear to god_
> 
> _______: i just want to know ill keep it a secret i swear_
> 
> _Flowey: Not happening. You have no idea what they'll do if they so much as_ think _that someone knows their secret._
> 
> _Flowey: But...._
> 
> _Flowey: Lets say, you give me something I_ _want, but can't get._
> 
> _Flowey: And I'll give you a little hint! Gosh, they can't get mad at me for that, right? :P_
> 
> _______: what do you want?_
> 
> _Flowey: A burner phone. One that can run on those gift-card plans._
> 
> _______: why_
> 
> _Flowey: Oh, you know... Prank calls. Ordering shitty pizza to other peoples' houses. That kind of thing.  
> _
> 
> _______: and you cant get one yourself?_
> 
> _Flowey: I can't afford one. Do I SOUND like I have a job, idiot?_
> 
> _Flowey: And the people who "take care of me" would never get me one._
> 
> _______: theyre not your parents?_
> 
> _Flowey: Not the subject of this conversation, shithead. Do. We. Have. A. Deal?_
> 
> _______: listen i just looked this up_
> 
> _______: im not gonna drop fifty dollars on a shitty phone for you_
> 
> _Flowey: Wow, guess you just don't care that much about your friend's situation. I guess that's that, then._
> 
> _Flowey: Be seeing you!  
> _
> 
> _______: WAIT_
> 
> _______: my parents gave me a shitty flip phone before i got myself an iphone_
> 
> _______: i can give you that_
> 
> _Flowey: ..._
> 
> _Flowey: Throw in $20._
> 
> ______: 10 bucks take it or leave it_
> 
> _Flowey: Deal. ;)_
> 
> _Flowey: Meet me in the park on the corner of 6th and 19th at noon today._
> 
> _______: ive never met you irl how will i know who to look for?_
> 
> _Flowey: Are you braindead? I'm a fucking talking flower, you idiot._
> 
> _______: oh alright_
> 
> _______: see you i guess_

Better get busy--you have an old phone to find.

* * *

After looking for a solid half-hour (and tearing apart your newly-assembled room), you find it... in your sock drawer, for some reason. You hope that Flowey doesn't mind a phone that smells like feet. Do flower monsters even have a sense of smell, anyway? Maybe you'll get lucky and he won't notice.

On your way out the door, you shout, "I'm gonna go hang out with some friends, see you!"

"Be back before five," your dad calls back, "I'm making burgers for dinner!"

"It won't be that long! See you!"

You head out. The park you're meeting Flowey at is about half a mile away, according to Google Maps, but you typically enjoy walking down Ebott streets. There seems to be a real sense of community in the suburbs, almost like a 50s sitcom. There are always kids playing in front yards, people walking down the street, and quirky shops to peer through the windows of. It might even seem creepy if it weren't so... authentic. You wave hello to an old couple sitting on their porch. What the fuck, people still do that? By the time you finally reach the park, you estimate you've said hi to (or at least waved to) over thirty people. Shit's weird.

You look through the gate, and... okay, Flowey has got to be pulling some kind of cruel joke on you. "Carolyn Memorial Park" is a fucking flower garden. You're looking for a flower in a flower garden.

Figures.

You walk in, and--oh. That wasn't that hard, as there's only one flower you can see in the whole garden that has a face. He's (standing? planted?) in the central square, looking at an arrangement of similar-looking yellow flowers. The label beneath them reads, "EBOTT GOLDEN FLOWER." He has a strange look on his face, like he's remembering something he'd rather forget. You don't know if you should interrupt him, but it feels even weirder to just... watch, so you walk up.

"Hey."

"Oh." He turns to face you, and squints. "Well, you're here early."

You look at him quizzically. "Dude, it's 12:03."

"Well golly, that seems like something I would know if I, y'know, _had a phone_. Hand it over!"

You pull out the phone from your pocket, and Flowey grabs it out of your hands with a vine.

"Hee hee hee!" He cackles, somewhat maniacally, and you wonder if this was a good idea after all. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

"Okay, so what's the deal with Cocoa?" you ask.

Flowey frowns. "Where's the ten bucks? No cash, no... hints."

"You can have the money after you tell me what's going on."

"Fine," he spits, "They're feeling kinda... trapped in something. They have been for a few years, and every time they look for a way out, it does not go well. Now gimme!"

"What does that mean?" you ask, as you take out your wallet, "Or is that it? Because that was NOT worth ten bucks."

"Oh, do we have ourselves a _shrewd negotiator_?" As he talks, Flowey's previously cartoon-like face shifts into something... wrong. Something sinister. "Because if _that's_ the case, I have a new offer! I'll let you keep your SOUL--for just ten dollars."

Even though you know he must be kidding, there's a tiny corner of your brain that's worried he's serious. Or at the very least, that he's not fucking around. You hand him the money, and he goes back to wearing a playful grin. "Pleasure doing business with you!" he says, sticking out his tongue playfully before disappearing underground. What a creep.

* * *

Of course, when you get home, the first thing you consult is the almighty Google. You search " _what can make someone feel trapped,_ " and wow, that's a lot of troubling results. It looks like the main answers are poverty (which sucks, but isn't exactly the kind of personal thing to keep secret), an unsatisfying career (obviously not), or involvement in a toxic relationship or friendship.

Hm. That might actually fit. You click on a link: "Five Signs Your Friend is in a Toxic Relationship." Apparently, you should be looking out for self-blaming, low self-confidence, unexpected disappearances, being inaccessible often, and making excuses for their friend/partner. And, apparently, it's important to get them help as soon as you're sure that's the situation.

You bookmark the page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'd love to hear opinions and thoughts, so leave a comment, and be sure to leave kudos if you enjoyed the chapter!


	8. Summer's End

> _______: school is starting in like twelve hours_
> 
> _Cocoa: Not ready for summer to end? I understand._
> 
> _______: actually im kinda excited_
> 
> _______: school starting isnt so bad when most of your friends are also gonna be there_
> 
> _______: im assuming youre not gonna be there tho right?_
> 
> _Cocoa: No, I'm not enrolled at Ebott High._
> 
> _Cocoa: And I don't have many school friends, either._
> 
> _______: damn that sucks_
> 
> _Cocoa: Well. Once you're used to it, it's not so bad._
> 
> _______: still sucks though_

"I still don't get it," Flowey grumbles, "Why don't you just lie to them?"

" **I told you,** **I hate having to lie. I can never remember what I've lied about, and then I have to go back and check,** " Chara says, " **It's so much cleaner to just omit information.** "

-I think you mean, 'lying is wrong and I would never do that,'- Frisk quips, -don't you, Chara?-

" **Oh, you're such a hypocrite.** "

-No, _you're_ such a tsundere.-

" **And what the hell is that supposed to mean?** "

-You're kidding, right?- Frisk clears their throat (completely for dramatic effect). -'No, I'm just doing telling the truth because it's easier! I don't actually care about morals, about anyone, eugh~! It's just investigating, I swear! We're not friends, baka!'-

" **Shut up, Frisk.** "

-Yes! I'm right! I knew it!-

> _Cocoa: Is there anything you want to do for the last night of summer?_
> 
> _Cocoa: We could watch Mettaton the Movie XXIII :)_
> 
> _______: please no_
> 
> _______: id be down to hang out tonight though_

-Alright, I'm tired, gonna go to sleep. Please remember to brush my teeth this time.-

" **'Can you brush my teeth.'** **God, can you please just speak normally?** "

-Last time I checked, we're not exactly normal. And CLEARLY I need to say it. Last time you just let me wake up with stinky mouth syndrome.-

" **Yeah, I'll brush your teeth, whatever. Go get some sleep, dumbass.** "

> _Cocoa: Yes, I'm free._

* * *

You're dropped off at school around seven-thirty in the morning, which leaves you about half an hour to find your classes. A good thing, too, since apparently nobody who lays out high schools has any sense of what "organization" is. Why is the 600s building right next to the 100s? Fuck you, that's why.

While you're walking through the school (in circles, you suspect), you run into Frisk. They're carrying Flowey in a pot.

Interesting.

"Hey Frisk," you quip, "Nice flower."

Flowey glares at you threateningly. "If you think that I won't eviscerate you because we're on 'school property,' you're a moron."

"Ignore Flowey, he's just nervous," Frisk tells you, "I could barely get him out the door this morning."

"He lives with you?" you ask.

"He has nowhere else to go," Frisk says sadly. Gee, you wonder why?

"Which is a NICE way of saying that it's literally my last choice," Flowey butts in, "EIther I stay with this self-righteous bastard or I starve to death."

"Come on," Frisk says, "English is first period, right? It's this way."

They walk away in the direction you came from (how on Earth did you pass the room) and you follow behind them. The three of you arrive at room 202 just as the bell is ringing. You sit down next to Frisk, who has set Flowey down on their desk like a particularly angry houseplant. You look around the classroom but don't see anyone else you know. The other students are mostly humans, but there are a few monsters as well.

"Hello everyone!" the teacher (another human) calls, "I'm Mrs. Byrd, welcome to English Composition! Today is going to be a pretty slow class, just getting to know each other, going over the syllabus, you all know the drill. Oh, and I hope you all did your summer reading because we'll also be starting a Socratic seminar about some of the main themes of _Fahrenheit_."

"Hey Frisk," you whisper, "Why are there, like, so many more humans than monsters here?"

Frisk groans. "The school system is super screwed up. Monsters aren't guaranteed admission to public schools, even, and we don't have the money to build another high school AND staff the new K-8... so everyone's all crammed into the few schools that were here before monsters surfaced. A lot of monsters are being homeschooled because there just isn't room."

"Yikes."

"I know. I'm working on it, though." Damn. Badass.

* * *

First days of school aren't exactly Frisk's cup of tea-- there are too many syllabus readings and way too much paperwork sent home. They already have four new textbooks checked out and weighing down their backpack. Tnankfully, they're allowed a brief respite from the overwhelming day in the form of lunch. They meet up with Kid in their usual spot, and take out their phone to message you where they are when they see a text. It's from Sans.

_i think i found one. call me when you can_

- **Holy shit.-**

"Actually, Kid, can you text ______ instead?" Frisk asks, a bit dazed, "I need to make a call."

"Yeah no problem!"

Frisk leaves Flowey with Kid and walks to a quiet corner of the school--nobody else ever goes near the dumpsters by the parking lot. They call Sans.

"heya kiddos. how's the first day of school?"

"Great-- **Did you mean it? Did you find one?** " Frisk is cut off awkwardly, but they don't blame Chara. 

"i'm gonna guess that's not you, frisk. why dont'cha calm down? right now i'm just going off what you both told me, and it sure looks like one based off that. 'sides, i don't even know if this detector thingy can pick one up."

" **What changed, I thought they couldn't exist on the Surface! Why are they finally appearing now, after three years?** "

"kid, i'm tellin' you that i don't know jack, this stuff's all new to me. if you wanna see it for yourself after school, you gotta ask your mom if i can take you there."

Frisk takes back the helm. "We will, don't worry. Uh, where is it?"

"it's frisk speaking, i'm guessing?"

"Yeah."

"just checkin'. it's real close, here in ebott."

"See you... see you after school." Frisk ends the call. Their hands are shaking with nervous energy.

- **You should b** **e careful for the rest of today,** \- Chara advises, **-** **The last thing we want is to have to RESET now.** -

You're at the lunch table by the time Frisk returns. They're visibly anxious, and keep fidgeting with their hands and jacket. Once, you see them glance over their shoulder like they're looking for danger. You notice them doing so, but you don't say anything--you don't want to be rude. Flowey, on the other hand...

"Jeez, what's got you so tense?" He asks, "You look like there's someone watching you. OOH! IS there?

Frisk snorts. "No, it's..." they whisper something to Flowey, and his face takes on an almost cartoonishly shocked expression.

"OH," he pauses, putting something together, "and before that, you're worried someone will..."

Frisk nods.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that. I _won't_ let that happen."

It's now Frisk's turn to be shocked. "You'll help?"  
  
"It'll be fun! And the alternative, well... I think we've gone through THAT enough times already."

You glance at Kid. He shrugs and gives you a look back that says _I have no idea what they're talking about_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff or plot? How about both? As always please leave kudos and/or a comment if you're enjoying this fic!


	9. Introductions and Confrontation

The fourth-period bell rings, and you glance down at your schedule. Your next class, Monster Studies, is in room 509. Kid runs alongside you for a while, then you wave as they hurry off in another direction. You find the classroom In a reasonable amount of time, surprisingly, and open the door. The teacher's name, Mrs. Daos, is written on the whiteboard. The bell rings. You glance over at the teacher's desk, but it's empty. The door to the staff room opens, and a crocodile monster walks out with a glass of water in hand. She sets it down on the desk, then moves over to the front of the room and faces you all.

"Hello, is everyone here?" Mrs. Daos calls out, then seeing no objections, continues, "Great! Welcome to Monster Studies! Now, before we begin, I'm just going to ask a few quick yes-or-no questions. Feel free to answer them by raising your hand. How many of you have seen a display of magic before?"

You raise your hand. You've seen Kid trying to lift things with their magic, which often ends in said things all over the place. You look around to see that most of the class also has their hands raised--unsurprising.

"Alright, that is good to know. We probably will not have to go over the very basics then. How many of you have read--or heard--anything about SOUL theory or magical process?"

About half the class's hands go down, but yours stay up. You've heard monsters talking about learning magic in the chatroom, and you've seen one or two videos about SOUL theory. Only the basics, though.

"Hm, it seems like we have a relatively advanced class. All right then, how many of you have witnessed a monster in an encounter?"

Your hand falls along with most of the class. Only three hands are still raised.

"Very well. I think I know where we are to begin." Mrs. Daos reaches under her desk and starts stacking textbooks on top of it. "Everybody, come up and grab a copy. Don't worry about checking these out for now, we can do that at the end of class."

You get up and grab a textbook. The front cover reads _In_ _troduction to Practical Magic_. When everyone sits back down, Mrs. Daos continues talking. "So, we'll begin the curriculum discussing magic. I am of the belief that it's best to start with an understanding of magic before we dive into the cultural aspect of monsterhood. We have a lot to cover, and the most obvious differences come first!"

This class is going to be _interesting_.

* * *

The first day, however, is not so. You end up sitting through a lecture on stuff you mostly know already, then receiving a syllabus and being told to bring it back signed by next week. Not much different from your other classes, so far. But, at least unlike algebra, you're left with a good taste in your mouth.

"Oh, and everyone? There will be no homework until next week!"

That helps.

The bell rings, and so concludes the first school day of your sophomore year. You leave the classroom and run to the courtyard since you're not getting picked up for another fifteen minutes. Frisk and Kid are sitting down at a table, but before you reach them, about five or six older kids block your way.

"That's him, yeah." one of them says.

"Uh, not a him," you correct, "them."

"Oh, shit. Sorry."

You sigh. "Ok, ok. Can I just get through?"

"Why? So you can see your friends? The invaders and the traitor?" His voice is sharp, accusatory.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"The MONSTERS. They're invading the town, and you're making friends with them." Oh. They're massively racist. The kid who's speaking takes a few steps towards you. "You've gotta believe us, we have a source inside the monsters' organization, they're plotting--"

"The organization?" you interrupt. "They're not organized, they dissolved their government when they left the Underground."

"That's what they WANT you to think!" the kid snaps, "They're trying to steal your SOUL, man, your soul! We're trying to help you out here!"

"I don't need, or want, your help." You push through them, which attracts the attention of Frisk and Kid. Fortunately, the group leaves, and you sit down.

"Who the fuck was that?" you ask.

Kid sighs. "It's a group that was annoying us all last year. Like, I think they're all seniors, so they were freshmen the year the monsters resurfaced. Basically, their general message is that monsters are evil, scary, and ruining everything, including high school."

"Okay, who even thinks like that?" you grumble, "What's their thought process, like... 'Wow, a secret magical race emerged from the local mountain--this is TOTALLY going to ruin my freshman year of high school!'"

That elicits a chuckle from Kid. Frisk, however, frowns. "Unfortunately, it's a little more serious," Frisk explains, "They've actually been a major pain in the butt for my ambassador work."

"You're kidding. They're what, six seventeen-year-olds?"

"Yeah, and I'm ONE fifteen-year-old." Oh. "And, it's really their parents that are the big trouble. They call themselves the 'Humanity Front,' which is ironic because they're all advocating for major human rights abuses."

"But let me guess," you deadpan, "it's okay... because monsters aren't human."

Frisk nods, and for a second they look incredibly tired. You've wondered before about the responsibility that their role requires, but you've never really paid attention to the effects that being the monster ambassador might be having on them. They appear tired, older, and worn-down, but despite everything, they have a fire in their eyes that you just know isn't going out any time soon. You can tell how determined they are to help their friends. And just as quickly as it showed, the tired expression is gone. It makes you feel like you just saw a glimpse of an older, wiser, more responsible person trapped inside Frisk--a natural ambassador.

* * *

- **I swear to god, I'm going to punch them all in the dick.** -

Frisk is standing at the street corner, waiting to be picked up. Nearly everyone else is already gone, so they don't get any strange looks when they mutter a reply under their breath. 

"Chara, I can't let you do that..."

- **They _deserve_ it. They keep harassing every god damn human who talks to you.**\- Chara is seething. - **It's not like I'm dying for you to make more friends, but god, it gets old.** -

"Even if they did deserve a fight, which they _don't_ , you'd be using MY body."

- **And you would be justified in doing so, too!** -

"I'm the monster ambassador, I can't fight people I disagree with. Not only is it wrong, but I'd actually be doing more harm than good. You know that."

A quiet moment passes.

- **God, I wish I had my own body, I would _totally_ punch them all in the dick.**-

Frisk giggles. "Come on--now you've gotta promise me! If I can get you your own body, don't just go around fighting people. Please?"

- **We're never gonna make that happen, are we? But sure, I guess I will have to restrain myself.** -

As they chuckle to each other, a red convertible pulls up to the curb. It's driven by a short skeleton wearing a blue hoodie.

"sup?" Sans says, "like the ride?"

"Papyrus let you borrow his Mustang?"

"yep. woulda taken my motortrike, but you know. only one seat." Sans looks down at Frisk. "where's the flower?"

"He's on lookout," Frisk says, and points to a nearby roof, where a yellow speck is just barely visible. "He doesn't want a reset, so he volunteered. And I think he likes having the alone time."

"gotcha. welp, you got everything? ready to check this one out?"

" **Just go already!** "

Sans chuckles. "my day was great, kids, thanks for asking." The car takes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmm, what are they going to find? The "mystery!" The "cliffhanger!" The "suspense!" (The "big reveal" is coming in the next chapter, I promise.)  
> In the meantime, please be sure to leave kudos and/or a comment if you're enjoying the work so far. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts and concrit is very welcome!


	10. Frustrations, Patience, and Cooperation

The car pulls to a stop at the base of Mount Ebott. A swift wind runs alongside the mountain's slope, pushing back Frisk's hair as they eagerly step out of the convertible. They're followed by Sans, who gestures to a trailhead at the side of the road.

"this way," he says, and starts walking.

" **What, not going to take a shortcut?** " Chara voices through Frisk, " **I thought you would be too lazy to make the hike."**

Sans doesn't turn back, answering, "can't take what isn't there, kid, but trust me, i've checked."

" **Figures-** -well, thanks for trying."

Frisk follows behind Sans. As they ascend, the sun begins to fall behind the mountain line. Sans reaches into his pocket and throws Frisk a flashlight.

"Oh! Thanks!" they say, and switch theirs on.

"don't mention it--your mom woulda killed me if i didn't come prepared." Sans turns on his own flashlight. "not much farther now."

Eventually, they reach a fork in the trail. One marker reads "Lower Ebott Loop," while the other reads "Summit." Frisk stops to wait for Sans, who ignores both signs, choosing instead to push through the bushes in between the trails. Frisk follows with their heart beating nearly out of their chest. In the distance, they can make out a faint yellow glow--a SAVE star. They speed up, quickly overtaking Sans, but to their surprise, they've been beaten to the SAVE point.

"Be honest," Flowey says, "Did you forget about me?"

" **No, just wondering when you were going to get here. Also, weren't you supposed to be watching our back?"**

"Oh, please. We both know that between you and the trashbag, Frisk is MORE than safe." Flowey hasn't taken his eyes off the SAVE this whole time. "Ready to get this over with?"

"alright, kids," Sans says as he emerges from the bush, "you ready?"

"More than ready," Frisk says. They put their palm to the star. Strangely, it's colder than they remember. "Do the thing, Chara."

- **Oh my god? Really?** \- Frisk nods. - **Fine. Ah-hem--knowing your friends will be safe... It fills you with Determination.** -

.

..

...

But nothing happened.

"um. that look on your face--it didn't work, did it?"

"I don't understand." Frisk says, slowly, "I... It felt like a SAVE point, and I know I can still RESET... what happened?"

- **If you're asking me, I don't know.-**

Flowey finally looks away from the SAVE star. "You've gotta be FUCKING kidding me." He snarls, shooting bullets into the ground. "It's DEPLETED."

"Depleted? " Frisk asks, "That can happen?"

"Yeah, but only to artificial ones." Flowey circles around the star, grimacing as he speaks. "If it was used enough, it would stop functioning until it could be recharged."

"hold up. you, uh, made an artificial SAVE point, i'm assuming, during one of your resets?" Sans is glaring at Flowey. "that woulda been useful to know before i spent a month hunting this one down."

"I TRIED to," Flowey responds angrily, "Back when I was figuring out how everything worked. An early reset--number 102 or 103, I think. I asked Alphys for help, but our prototypes kept exploding on us. Everything I know about artificial SAVE points is all theory, but this fits with everything I remember."

"so, if it's artificial, how the heck did it get here?"

Flowey slaps himself in the face with a vine and glares at Sans. "Do you WANT a half-remembered explanation of thaumatemporal anomalies? Because I'd be HAPPY to provide one!"

"nah. temporal science was never really my thing, anyway, never really had the...."

Flowey's glare intensifies. "Don't. You. Dare."

" _time_ for it."

"You're lucky that Frisk's here, because I've never been more DETERMINED to turn you into a pile of bones."

" **Both of you, come on. We still have an inactive SAVE point that we don't know how to charge.** "

"Oh, that's easy," Flowey says, "We just have to wait."

" **For h** **ow long?** "

"Hm." Flowey leans in close to the SAVE star. "Anywhere from a week to a month," he says, "seeing how bright it is already. Alphys could tell you more than I can, but we'd obviously have to bring her up to speed."

"A month at most?" Frisk says. "I... We can wait a month, right?"

- **Yes. We can wait.** -

* * *

> _Cocoa: You have to aim above the turrets. Use the cubes to knock them down._

"Why is knocking them down enough to kill them? Like, they just stop shooting."

> _Cocoa: Aperture Science must engineer their devices for damage output rather than durability, I suppose_

You're streaming Portal through the chat client, and Cocoa is "assisting" you through the game. You've never played it before, which is making this an interesting experience for both of you.

"But they still take, like, three seconds to kill me--oh, is that what the X marks are for?"

> _Cocoa: Wow, you just figured that out? Really?_

"No need to be rude." You walk into the room with the button, only to be shot down. "Ugh! Come on!"

> _Cocoa: Come on. Stay focused._

This time, you advance behind a cube, knocking down turrets as you move. You and move out of the line of sight before using the cube to press down the button, and are rewarded when you see an aiming laser peek out of the doorframe.

"Knew it, fucker," you say, shooting a portal behind the bastard, then knocking it down.

> _Cocoa: Good job. There are only a few more rooms left._
> 
> _Cocoa: Before you get cake :)_

"You know I'm not dumb, right? Also, I don't live under a rock, I know the meme."

> _Cocoa: Well, I had figured that you knew the meme, but_ _I hadn't yet ruled out low intelligence._ _After all, it took you nearly twelve minutes to solve that last room._

"You were timing me? Now I'm imagining you talking like, uh, the... overseer robot voice lady."

> _Cocoa: I would say I wasn't, but I don't feel like lying._
> 
> _Cocoa: Also yes, I see what you mean. I do tend to talk like GLaDOS._
> 
> _Cocoa: We should probably stop here for tonight._ _I should probably get some sleep._

"Alright." You stop streaming and close the game window.

> _______: that was fun_
> 
> _______: even if theres no multiplayer_
> 
> _Cocoa: The sequel has a cooperative mode. Thou_ _gh, to be honest, I prefer the main story.  
> _
> 
> _Cocoa: And I don't mind sitting in the back seat. It's relaxing._
> 
> _______: maybe we could play a bit earlier next time tho_
> 
> _______: so you could use a mic_
> 
> _Cocoa: Unfortunately, can't play earlier, and even if I could, I couldn't use the voice chat._
> 
> _Cocoa: My sibling's busy schedule makes it hard to chat earlier than ten._
> 
> _Cocoa: I have to use their computer, as I don't have one myself._
> 
> _______: ah gotcha_

This is the first time you've heard about Cocoa's sibling. You didn't even know they had one. Well, you've only known them for three weeks. It's not like people introduce themselves by talking about their family, after all. Actually, now that you think about it, they've never really mentioned their family at all.

Weird.

> _Cocoa: Like I said, I should get to bed, but tonight was very fun. Perhaps we could finish the game over the weekend?_
> 
> _______: yeah i should be free then_
> 
> _Cocoa: Sounds amenable. See you then._
> 
> _______: yeah cya_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAMER CHARA
> 
> BOTTOM TEXT
> 
> Please be sure to leave kudos if you enjoyed the chapter! Also, there's a secret hidden in the first ten chapters of this work that I don't think anyone has noticed yet. If you think you found it, leave a comment with your guess!


	11. In Our Way

For the first time in a week, your parents don't insist on dropping you off at school, which is a relief. Instead, you walk. The morning air cools you down, and the silence helps you think. At least, it would, if there was any silence. As you get closer to Ebott High, you start to hear shouting coming from the campus. You speed up your pace, and when you turn the corner, you see a large crowd gathered around the high school. You can see signs that read "Protect our Children!" and "Keep our Schools Safe!" As you get closer, the shouting compresses into a chant.

_"No monsters! No fear! Keep them out of here!"_

For fuck's sake.

The protestors are blocking the gate, and you don't particularly feel like pushing through the crowd. Across the street, you see Frisk and Kid with a group of other students--mostly monsters, but there's a good number of humans too. You rush over. Frisk looks busy trying to get everyone's attention, so you move to Kid.

"What's going on?" you ask.

Kid sighs. "I was really hoping this wasn't gonna be a thing this year, man... We gotta push through the crowd, so we're all grouping together."

"Can I help?"

"Yeah, just listen to Frisk."

"Okay, everyone, you know the drill," Frisk calls, and wow, that's extremely depressing, "Humans on the outside, monsters on the inside."

You decide to take a position near the front, which puts you right next to Frisk, who's leading the group. You cross the street, putting you nearly face-to-face with the protestors. Frisk tries to push through some of them, but they won't budge. You can barely hear, but you can see them talking to one of the "activists," a younger man. You can't make out Frisk's face to read their lips, but you can see the expression on the man's face get more and more frustrated.

* * *

- **This isn't working. They know what we're trying to do.** -

"We just need to get through. We need to go to school."

"Kid, we'll let you through. All the humans here can go in because you all actually BELONG in school. It's the monsters that we're worried about, they shouldn't be here."

- **I have an idea. Do you trust me?-**

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I don't want those things sharing a class with my kids! It's dangerous!"

- **I'm c** **ertain.-**

Frisk takes a deep breath and closes their eyes for a moment before opening them wide. They wear a solemn grin. When they speak again, it's slower, more deliberate.

" **Well. We seem to have reached an impasse.** "

"Just go through, kid. We'll deal with the monsters."

Chara ignores the man's words, looking him straight in the eyes. " **If we must continue to school, and you won't stop protesting, that really only leaves one option: I could** **... clear a way through this protest, for my friends to walk through. I'd prefer your permission, of course, but...** " Chara's smile widens, " **I could make do without."**

The man looks at the fifteen-year-old kid before him in shock. He considers himself in decent shape--he goes to the gym often, and takes jiujitsu lessons, even if he's a beginner. The kid's making an obvious threat, and he's never taken a threat like that very seriously. He's not about to start now, especially not from a teenager.

But that look on their face...

He steps aside and calls for the person behind him to do the same. Chara nods to him with a smile, then gestures for the rest of the group to keep moving. Once they're inside the gate and on campus, Frisk steps off to the side. They take their phone out like they often do when they talk to Chara in public and pretend to make a call.

"You shouldn't have threatened him."

- **He wasn't going to answer to reason. I know you could tell that. And besides, it got us through.** -

"That doesn't mean we can--argh! The ends don't justify the means."

- **He was talking about hurting our friends, Frisk, hurting all the monsters. I don't feel too bad about giving him a scare.** -

"But in my body..."

- **It was obvious he didn't recognize you. He was talking to you like you were a student, not an ambassador. Or, for that matter, a 'race traitor.'-  
**

"Just, I don't think we should do that next time! I didn't like it."

- **Okay. If you have any better ideas, I'll be waiting.** -

Frisk spots you approaching them, and presses their phone a little closer to their ear. "I've got to go. I'll see you later."

- **Oh, come on. We need to talk about this eventually, Frisk.** **-**

* * *

Frisk hangs up with whoever they're talking to, looking exasperated. "Ambassador stuff," they explain.

"Ah, okay," you say, "Uh, the bell rang."

"What?" They look up, startled.

"Yeah, like a minute or two ago, you looked busy so I didn't want to..."

"Crap, we should probably get to class, then..."

They start walking, and you follow behind. Fortunately, you get to class before the bell rings--a good thing, since you don't want to have to find the attendance office to get a tardy slip. Written on the whiteboard is a phrase you'd heard your teacher talking about over the last week: "Writing with a Purpose." You sit down as Mrs. Byrd walks into the classroom, closing her office door behind her.

"Alright everybody," She addresses the class with a smile, "We're going to be starting our first unit today! But first, I need everyone who hasn't turned in their syllabus to get those out." She looks down at a list of names and starts reading them out. "That would be, Bill, Sara, Madison..."

As she continues, you turn to Frisk. "How often do those protests happen?" you ask.

"Like, monthly-ish," Frisk sighs, "which is... it's better. Because it used to be weekly, every Monday. Now, they're less frequent but they're also a lot more unpredictable."

You grimace. "God, that sounds fucking awful, dealing with, that, every week."

Frisk just nods. Mrs. Byrd, now finished collecting syllabuses, resumes talking. "Okay, now that that's done with, we can start! So! Our first unit is about persuasive writing. First, we'll learn about constructing a strong argument, then we'll be writing arguments of our own: persuasive essays."

When they hear this, Frisk looks kind of bored, but every now and again you see them write something down in their notebook. Honestly, now that you think about it, you can't imagine that they'll learn much from this unit that they don't already know from their experience as an ambassador. 

* * *

The rest of the school day passes relatively uneventfully. The protestors are gone by third period. You don't know if they were forced to leave or if they dissipated on their own, you're just glad that you'll be able to get home without pushing through a crowd of angry faces. When you get home, you realize you forgot something at school--your English notebook.

> _______: hey frisk can you send me a pic of your english notes?_
> 
> _______: left my notebook in class and i need it for hw_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: I wasn't taking notes today, sorry._
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: I can ask Bella or Mason though!  
> _
> 
> _______: thanks_

That's weird. What were they writing in their notebook?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I think we're finally going to be moving forward plot-wise, and as much as I want to stretch this story out, the Storm approaches. (I have serious envy of people who can write slow fics.) As always, I really appreciate feedback, so be sure to leave kudos and/or a comment telling me what you think about the chapter!


	12. Learning and Progressing, in More Ways Than One

Monster Studies is by far your favorite class.

When it comes down to it, there’s just not really any competition. Sure, you like writing, and your math teacher IS pretty funny, but Monster Studies is the only class where you walk into the room and see “Spellcasting” written on the whiteboard. Just like it’s an ordinary thing that people learn about in high school. To be fair, you suppose that’s literally what you’re doing, but you can’t help but feel like you’re living in a fantasy novel.

“Alright everybody,” Mrs. Daos calls, grabbing your attention, “now that we’re all up to speed on magical properties, today we’re finally going to start learning about SOUL magic and spellcasting.”

The last sentence grabs the rest of the class’s attention, too, and the room goes quiet. Good. You really want to hear this.

“Now, I understand that there have been a lot of rumors circulating about SOULs and, to a broader extent, magic in general. So, today, we’re going to start by addressing--and debunking, in some cases--these preconceptions.”

She grabs a whiteboard and jots down “SOUL concepts,” continuing to speak as she does. “Firstly, there have been a lot--and I mean a lot--of misconceptions about exactly what a SOUL is. Would anyone in the class like to share what they’ve heard?”

A few hands raise, including yours. Mrs. Doas points to a girl in the back. “Emily?”

“Um, it’s, us? Like, who we are?”

“In a very vague sense, yes, that’s true,” Mrs. Daos responds, “Can anyone give a more specific answer?”

Everyone’s hands drop.

“I see. Well, at least none of you have any false notions about SOULs. It’s a lot easier to teach you kids when you don’t have to unlearn something wrong you heard on the internet!

A SOUL contains the essence of one’s being. Now, that’s not exactly quantifiable, but monsters know it to be expressed as your personality, morality, and emotions.”

A hand raises, and Mrs. Daos calls on the boy it belongs to--Mike. “What are SOUL colors?” he asks.

Mrs. Daos smiles. “I’m very glad you brought that up. SOUL colors are reflections of your most prominent values. The easiest way to explain it is with a comparison to light. Light reflects off of an object and returns to your eye, which tells you what color that object is. Likewise, magic reflects off of a SOUL and returns to its sender the color of that SOUL.”

Mrs. Daos writes “color” under “SOUL” on the whiteboard, then she reaches up to pull down the projector screen. After fiddling with the projector for about a minute, (you guess even monster teachers do that, haha) she starts a PowerPoint presentation. The slide shows a weird color wheel with seven slices, each with a blank label.

“SOUL color is quantified, meaning that it collapses into seven distinct categories.” She points to each one as she talks, “Red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and violet. Each category corresponds to a characteristic SOUL value. Can anyone here name them?”

Your hand shoots up, along with a few others across the class. Fortunately, you were seen first, and you sit up when your name is called. “Yellow is justice, cyan is, um, patience, green is kindness… violet is… perseverance, red is…” You trail off. You can’t remember.

“All of those were correct,” Mrs. Daos looks pleased as she types in the names that match the color.

“Uh, red is determination!” you exclaim. That was it.

“Very good,” Mrs. Daos fills that one in also, then looks back up at the class, “Justin, can you finish the wheel?”

Justin lowers his hand. “Orange is bravery, I remember, and blue is integrity. Right?”

“Correct,” Mrs. Daos continues, “And just like changing the color of a lightbulb will seemingly change the color of the objects it illuminates, changing the type of magic a SOUL is exposed to will ‘change’ the color of the SOUL. There’s no real transformation, of course--magic can’t cause you abandon your previous values and pursue others.”

She advances to the next slide, which is titled _Spells_. “Spells are the simplest type of magic,” she explains, “They are expressions of intent from the SOUL, and as such, serve many purposes for monsters. Spells can be used to heal wounds…” The slide changes to a gif of a small cut sealing itself shut, “move things around...” The screen shows a broom sweeping by itself, “and even create objects out of seemingly nothing.” She pauses, and looks at the class before continuing. “If you’d all like a demonstration, I’d... be happy to oblige.”

GOD YES. You’ve never seen a monster actually be competent with magic--you don’t think Kid’s attempts at juggling really count. You voice your enthusiasm, along with a good amount of your classmates.

“All right then.” Mrs. Daos stands up from the desk, and holds out her palm. What looks like a large shark tooth forms floating above her hand, which is SO cool. “This is a magical projection, but the colloquial term for this type of spell is a ‘bullet.’ Needless to say, the scientific explanation of bullets is… complicated, but the general idea is that they enact a monster’s intent in the physical world. Bullets are also a monster’s primary means of self-defence. Bullets can be formed out of the intent to harm just as easily as the intent to communicate.”

The magical tooth fades, and Mrs. Daos sits back down to click the next slide. There’s another gif of two monsters… throwing bullets at each other? You look to Mrs. Daos for an explanation, and thankfully, she obliges. “Bullet patterns are the logical next step from bullets,” she explains “Monsters use patterns like the ones shown here to express feelings and intentions when they can’t verbalize or when they prefer not to.” The next slide shows a beautiful whirlwind of leaf-shaped bullets.

“In this way,” Mrs. Daos explains, “spellcasting serves as a sort of language between monsters. However, it’s not universal. Gestures and patterns that mean one thing to a certain group of monsters can seem different to others--that’s why many monsters prefer vocalization.”

Huh. You wonder if Kid, Drake, or any of the other monsters you’ve gotten to know use bullet patterns. If they do, you’ve never seen it. Something to ask them about, you guess.

* * *

The afternoon sun is starting to set behind Mt. Ebott, giving the landscape a bunt-orange tinge and scorching two "hikers" caught out late. _Not exactly the best time to be doing this_ , Alphys thinks as she follows close behind Sans on the mountain trail. “W-Why were you out here, a-again?” she asks Sans.

“magic detecting,” he replies, and holds up what looks like a modified car stereo. “the laziest hobby I could think of. just gotta drive around till this thingy starts flashing, then drive in circles 'till I find whatever’s setting it off.”

“A-and you think there's, uh, s-something on the side of the m-mountain?”

“yeah, this thing’s going crazy,” he says, and tosses the device to Alphys. There’s a small red light that keeps blinking. “but I couldn’t see anything--or anyone--here. figured you might be able to help.”

“Huh...” Alphys turns the detector over in her hands, feeling it over with her magic. “It, um, doesn’t seem? Like it’s malfunctioning? So there’s pr-probably something here...”

“hey, there’s no need to _trail_ off.,” Sans says, which earns him a snort from Alphys. He then pushes through a bush, taking them both off the path. “over here, it was this way before.”

Sure enough, the frequency of the flashes keeps getting quicker, until eventually, it becomes a near-solid red light. “Uh, if th-there’s anything, it’d, uh, be right here,” Alphys says, coming to a stop.

“huh. nothing here.”

“It might be u-underground?”

“nah, this thing doesn’t pick up on Underground magic. not enough range for that.”

“Not, uh, the Underground,” Alphys hurries to explain, “l-like something buried! Like an artifact, f-from before the war!” She takes off her backpack and pulls out a small canister-shaped device, setting it on the ground while she fiddles with another tool, a mounting tripod. After about a minute of awkward silence, she manages to set up the device--a scanner--and points it at the spot where the magic detector had stopped blinking.

When the readings come in, Alphys exhales excitedly. “Sans!” she calls, “Come l-look at this!”

The skeleton squints into the screen, then looks back at Alphys with a blank smile on his face. “i’m gonna be honest with you, doc, i don’t know what half of this is saying.”

Alphys looks back at him confusedly. “I, I, thought you, uh…”

“nah. physics was more my thing.”

“Oh! It’s like, um…” She stutters off for a few seconds before pausing and gathering her thoughts. “Okay, you know h-how like in physics, uh, everything is made of, of interactions, and, fields, and stuff?”

“following you so far, yup.”

“So, i-imagine that there’s a, uh, theoretical field, that’s like, uh, a-a fold of spacetime, or a subfield, or… it’s n-not really important… b-but it’s, um. Energized? I guess that would be th-the best way to explain it... because there’s magical energy, um, seeping in?” Seeing Sans’s confusion, Alphys picks her train of thought up again. “The thing you, uh, found, is like a vent th-that releases that magic. Kind of l-like a volcano! We knew about two of them, b-back in the Underground. There was one near th-the lab, actually! I always thought that’s why the l-lab was built there… to, uh, m-monitor it…” She falters off again.

“huh. so… I found a magical spacetime vent?” Sans says. "cool.”

“Y-yeah! Especially b-because, this one, it’s uh, different! It’s showing l-less magic escaping than th-the ones we knew about. L-like, if it w-was a volcano, it w-would be dormant. Or, unstable. I can’t, uh, really tell which, not without, uh, the stuff at my lab. And, also, uh, there’s a chance that tryingtofindoutwouldchangeitandthat’sreallynotgoodscience--”

“change it?” Sans interrupts, “how?”

“We, uh, found out th-that they react to things, like, um. SOUL magic? At least s-some types? D-determination, specifically…”

* * *

> _Kid: Oh god, I'm terrible with bullets_
> 
> _Kid: You really don't want to see me try with them, haha_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: That's true, you probably don't even want to be in the general vicinity._
> 
> _Kid: I'm still sorry about that, by the way_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: It’s nothing, lol. Just making fun._
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Are both of you still up for the movies tonight?_
> 
> _______: yeah im still down_
> 
> _Kid: Yeah, definitely!_
> 
> _Kid: The last movie I saw was mtt 12, and I still need to wash that out of my eyeballs, haha_
> 
> _______: lol_
> 
> _______: that movie was. so bad_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Well. Not to make you jealous, but I was the only one to get an exclusive sneak peek at Mettaton the Movie XXVIII._
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: It would be a shame_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: If I… leaked it_
> 
> **FriskDreemurr shared file: “script.pdf.”** **Open?**
> 
> _______: no no no no no no no no_
> 
> _Kid: Please god no_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Okay, I’m going to be honest. I’ve never actually seen any of the movies, are they really that bad?_
> 
> _Kid: Yeah they’re awful_
> 
> _______: just. complete shit_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Oof._
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Hold on a second, someone just called me and I gotta answer._
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Sorry, something came up, I can’t do the movies tonight._
> 
> _Kid: Bummer, sorry_
> 
> _FriskDreemurr: Yeah, sorry for cancelling on short notice, but I gotta go. Maybe tomorrow?_
> 
> _______: tomorrow works for me_
> 
> _Kid: See you then!_

* * *

That night, some equipment from Alphys’s lab goes missing.

So does the ambassador.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this one! Fall classes are starting and I hadn't yet worked out a schedule, so finding time for writing was a bit tricky. Between that and rewriting the first half about ten times, I wasn't able to put out a chapter last week. Hopefully, this update was worth the wait! Also, I was wondering if you guys would prefer shorter chapters but more frequent updates or the opposite. Let me know in the comments, and be sure to leave kudos if you enjoyed it!


	13. Dark Places and Dark Voices

The night’s chilly air brings out goosebumps on Frisk’s skin, even though they're wearing their thick sweater. They’ve got more things more pressing than the cold on their mind, though. Namely, the brief call they just finished with Sans. And perhaps the near-rabid flower in their hands.

“‘Bring the weed,’ he said...” Flowey snarls, “I swear, he enjoys tormenting me. You see that, right?”

“Maybe,” Frisk admits. “But he needs you right now.”

“Ha! He’s gonna owe us a HUGE favor for whatever this is.”

“Maybe.” Their head starts to cool, the thoughts slowing down, which gives them enough mental space to notice the chilly breeze. They shiver.

A hand pats Frisk on the shoulder, and they jump. “Fuck,” they curse, and then, turning around, immediately slap a hand over their own mouth.

Sans chuckles from behind them. “relax, kid, don’t jump _out of your skin_. ‘m not planning to tell Tori about any of this.”

- **I’m sure she would be devastated,** \- Chara scolds, - **After all, you did say the fuck word.** \- Frisk pretends they didn’t hear them, which is easy, since no one else heard a thing.

“So. What did you need us for?” Flowey drawls, putting special emphasis on “need.”

Sans narrows his eyes at the flower. “why don’t we get moving, i’ll explain on the way.” With that, he starts walking. Frisk follows him, and before they can realize it, they’ve passed through a shortcut and are in Alphys’s Hotland lab.

“wow, would you look at that,” Sans exclaims, shrugging at Flowey, “we’re already here. guess I don’t actually have time to explain, huh?” As Flowey starts screeching incoherently, Sans steps into the elevator--no longer disguised as a bathroom--and holds his arm up to keep the door open, gesturing with the other for Frisk to follow him in. When they do, he presses the “down” button. 

Flowey glares up at Sans from his pot before turning his gaze to Frisk. “Come on, you’ve gotta be curious about why he dragged us back underground, right?”

Frisk shrugs.

- **You know, for a pacifist, you sure are intent on torturing him--Flowey, I mean. Not that I disagree with you doing so** **, just some food for thought.** -

“You’ve been playing way too much Portal,” Frisk whispers back, “You’re starting to sound like GLaDOS.”

- **Hm. We do have our similarities, I’ll give you that, but I think that overall I have better judgment than her. She's not the best character to take after.** -

Frisk snorts. When the chime rings and the elevator doors slide open, they can’t help but notice how much of a difference a new paint job and lights that actually work make. The True Lab is finally looking like an actual laboratory, and not like the set for a horror movie.

“c’mon. No shortcuts down here, gotta keep walkin.” Sans says.

You all start down the hallway. Despite the new paint job, the lab looks a little bleak. The lack of windows and the artificial lights give the rooms a cold, sterile atmosphere. It’s definitely preferable to the damp, humid fog that Frisk remembered, but still. Not exactly homely.

After a few turns, Chara starts to narrow down the destination of the impromptu journey. - **You know, there are really only two possibilities left, since I doubt we’re visiting the shower or the sample fridges. It’s got to be either the tape room or the DT Extractor.** \- They pause for a second. - **Oh god, neither of those sound like fun experiences…** -

Walking at an infuriatingly slow pace, Sans glances at Frisk, pointedly ignoring the grumbling flower they’re carrying. “so, bet you’re wondering why we came down here, huh?”

“OH YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.”

Sans ignores Flowey. “well, I heard something funny from alphys, believe it or not. she’d been doing research on save points too. though, uh, she didn’t know what they did. _point_ is, we're gonna need something else if we’re ever gonna make progress.”

- **I’m going to be honest with you, Frisk,** \- Chara “whispers,” - **I don’t like where this is going.** -

“specifically, we need pure determination. luckily, we might have just what we need here.” Sans turns his gaze to Flowey, whose whining starts to turn into screeching. 

“Oh no, TRASHBAG,” Flowey snarls, “I’m not donating any fucking DETERMINATION to your stupid little science project! That could actually kill me!”

Frisk looks down at the flower, surprised. “Really?” they ask.

“I don’t have a human SOUL to generate more of the stuff, stupid. If I run out, that’s it! So I’m NOT going to give it out like fucking HALLOWEEN CANDY.”

“right, so that _might_ kill the flower. does that mean it’s off the table?” After a glare from Frisk that would make Toriel proud, Sans retracts his statement. “jeez, alright. got it.”

“What would the DT do, anyway?” Frisk asks.

“from what I gathered, it’d let us mess with the SAVE point,” Sans explains, “see how close it is to usable, maybe even let us power it up faster.”

- **Can I say something?** \- Chara takes the front seat, then starts talking. “ **If you don’t mind me asking, why can’t you use our DT? We have a SOUL, so we’d be able to recover.** ”

“that’s, uh, not really an option. can’t be putting Frisk in danger, ‘specially when we need you to be able to save.”

“ **But like you said, we won’t even know if the SAVE point is working if we don’t use DT.** ”

“kiddo. not a discussion.”

“ **But--** But I _need_ to do this,” Frisk finishes, their voice a bit softer than Chara’s harsh, argumentative tone, “I need to SAVE, Sans, so that...” The final words hang unspoken in the air. _So that nobody has to die. So that nothing goes wrong like it did before._

Sans lets out a heavy sigh. “i’m not gonna be able to stop ya, am i?” The nod, he can tell, has both of them behind it. “fine, you can… help.”

Frisk is already eyeing the DT extractor. “How does it work?” they ask, then frown. “Will it hurt?”

“from what I remember, it works kinda like a fake encounter, but it throws magic at the right part of the soul until aspects start to, uh, chip off.” 

- **Fun.** -

Sans fiddles with a control panel on the opposite wall, which raises a flat metal bed from far beneath the machine. “dunno about the hurting part, though. wasn’t designed for comfort, that’s for sure.” The lack of cushions and the abundance of restraints on the bed attest to that.

- **Eh. Not the least comfortable bed I’ve ever been in.** \- Frisk knows what bed Chara’s referring to, and doesn’t exactly think that them bringing up their own suicide is a great sign. Chara realizes this soon after, saying - **Oh, that probably wasn’t very reassuring, was it? I’m sure it will be fine.** \- 

Frisk eyes the bed hesitantly before crawling onto it. It’s hard and uncushioned, more like a hospital stretcher than anything designed to be slept on. Fortunately, despite the (presumably) long period of unuse, it’s still shiny and clean, and none of the Amalgamate goop is to be seen. “Should I use the restraints, you think?” they ask.

“i dunno, can’t hurt,” Sans replies, not turning around. As Frisk straps themself in, the extractor starts to whir, and Sans lets out a satisfactory huff. “gotcha,” he exhales. 

Frisk can’t see what he’s doing, but when the mechanism above them starts shifting, moving the machine around, they presume Sans is in control of the extractor. He positions it above them, a thin tube pointing directly above their chest, then leans down to face Frisk.

“look, kid, you don’t gotta do this,” he assures them, “you can still back out. nothing’s keepin’ you here.”

- **Like fuck that’s gonna happen. We’re doing this, right?** -

Frisk props themself up partially, the bulk of the machine blocking them from looking Sans directly in the eye. They shake their head--no words are necessary.

“alright, kid, if you say so.” Frisk hears a chime from the panel. “you might wanna lay back down. don’t think that shifting around under this thing’s a good idea.”

They lay down. And then, they black out.

* * *

> **HUMANITY FRONT - PROTECT, DEFEND, UNITE**
> 
> **Login**
> 
> **Username:** SOURCE
> 
> **Password:** **********
> 
> …
> 
> **Identity confirmed! Welcome,** SOURCE **!**
> 
> **New Post**
> 
> **Title:** UPDATE_10/3/204X
> 
> **Body:** DO NOT ENGAGE THE MONSTERS WITH FORCE AT THE EMBASSY TOMORROW. THIS IS POSSIBLY THE MOST IDIOTIC MOVE YOU ALL COULD HAVE CONSIDERED. THOSE OF YOU WHO WILL INEVITABLY DISREGARD MY ADVICE, HARD-EARNED INTELLIGENCE, AND STRATEGY AND GO THROUGH WITH THIS ATTACK WILL BE CONSIDERED ENEMIES OF THE FRONT. YOU'VE ALL BEEN WARNED.
> 
> THE MONSTERS ARE DANGEROUS. YOU ALL KNOW THIS, BUT NOT AS WELL AS I DO. I KNOW WHAT THEY ARE TRULY CAPABLE OF, WHAT THEY HAVE BEEN HIDING FROM THE WORLD, AND IT IS THE CONTENT OF NIGHTMARES. OF COURSE, THIS INFORMATION MUST BE CLOSELY HANDLED. AS SUCH, I MUST CONFESS THAT I DO NOT YET TRUST THE FRONT ENOUGH TO RECEIVE THIS INFORMATION. BUT THE TIME WILL COME WHEN THE MONSTERS' SECRET MUST BE SPREAD, AND THAT TIME IS FAST APPROACHING. WHEN IT COMES, WE NEED AS MANY ALLIES AS POSSIBLE. RECRUITMENT IS STILL OUR TOP PRIORITY, UNTIL THE DAY COMES TO REMOVE THE PLAGUE OF MONSTERS FROM THE EARTH! PROTESTS AND MEDIA APPEARANCES ARE CRUCIAL TO GAINING SUPPORT, AND WE NEED ORGANIZERS, SO SIGN UP ON THE FORUMS!
> 
> NEW INTELLIGENCE:
> 
> \- THE AMBASSADOR WILL NO LONGER BE SPEAKING PUBLICLY AT THE EMBASSY ON SATURDAY NIGHT. I HAVE NO ACCESS TO THE REASONING BEHIND THIS DECISION.
> 
> \- THE CITY COUNCIL IS NO LONGER CONSIDERING BANNING THE FRONT FROM PROTESTING AT PUBLIC UTILITIES AND GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS. GOOD WORK EVERYONE!
> 
> \- THE POLICE DEPARTMENT IS CONSIDERING TWO MEMBERS OF THE FRONT AS SUSPECTS IN THE VANDALISM OF THE BAR OWNED BY THE FIRE ELEMENTAL "GRILLBY." TAKE CAUTION. 
> 
> KEEP STRONG ON THE FRONT.
> 
> **Posted.**

* * *

Frisk wakes up. They're in bed, THEIR bed, back home, and Sans is sitting down in a folding chair next to them. His smile, though ever-present, is concerned.

"Oh thank god," he whispers, "you alright, kid? You hear me?"

Frisk nods, which gives them a bit of a headache, and is met with a sigh of relief from Sans.

"you, uh, blacked out." He explains, "luckily, tori's still asleep, or we'd be gettin' an earful right about now. oh. and it worked--got the dt." He reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a small vial. It's filled with what looks like blood, but when Sans shakes it, it's obviously more viscous. "you did it, kid."

"We BOTH did it," Frisk corrects, "right, Chara?"

...

"Chara?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, what have those wacky teens gotten themselves into this time? This is probably the most plot-filled chapter I've written yet. God, I have so many ideas for this fic that are, like, dozens of chapters down the road. IT'S HARD TO WRITE CHAPTERS SEQUENTIALLY WHEN YOU ONLY HAVE ENDGAME IDEAS. Also. about the SECRET that I teased in an old end note, here's a narrower hint: It's in a prime-numbered chapter.  
> If you enjoyed thIs chapter, be sure to leave kudos and/or a comment! They're always appreciated!


	14. Absences

> _______: hey are you still down for portal tonight_

You glance back at the message you sent nearly two hours ago. You have a feeling that they’re not going to respond back. It sucks, but you can always hang out another night.

> _______: im guessing thats a no then lol_
> 
> _______: just tell me when_

* * *

Frisk is freaking out, but Sans can just barely tell.

They’re still in bed. Their eyes are out of focus--do they look glazed over? He can’t tell. The hair on their arms is standing up, they look clammy, and they’re breathing heavily. Not rapidly, but heavily.

They’re feeling horrible, and they still think they need to hide it.

“kid, kid,” Sans mutters, “it’s--uh, fuck. i’m… i’m sorry.”

Frisk doesn’t even move their eyes. That’s probably not too good, but Sans knows that the last thing they would want is their mom to know what happened. He leaves their room, making sure to close the door softly behind him, and descends the stairs into the Dreemurr living room, where a very angry potted plant is waiting in the dark.

“Well?” Flowey asks.

Sans flicks on a floor lamp. “frisk, uh, ain’t responding. and, uh, it’s not looking good for… the other one.” There's an unspoken rule between them to not use Chara’s name if anyone else--especially Toriel--has a possibility of hearing.

Flowey pauses for a moment, hot, blatant rage building up before being crushed beneath a solemn, scowling facade. The ticking of the wall clock is the only sound to fill the midnight silence, the air outside too thick with dread to dare begin the usual howling mountain wind. It reminds Sans too much of the underground: always waiting for the worst.

Sans breaks the tension first, and steps forward towards Flowey’s pot on the coffee table. “Listen, I--”

“Tell them to RESET.” Flowey interrupts, and Sans stops dead in his tracks.

“what? i ain’t doing that.”

“I don’t care.” Flowey’s words are harsh, but his tone is a low whisper, “They can’t be gone. You need to make them RESET.”

“i’m not gonna do that,” Sans repeats, “we can’t go back. b’sides, even if i was gonna, frisk wouldn’t do it.”

Flowey smiles grimly, desperately. “I didn’t say to _tell_ them, I said to _make_ them do it.”

The worst part, Sans thinks, is that Flowey knows what he’s saying. He means it. “that’s a real fucked up thing to ask, dontcha think? yeah, ‘m not gonna off frisk, not happening.” Sans’ voice is low, threatening. “and if you try to--well, that’s not gonna end well for you.”

“Oh come on, you hypocrite!” Flowey snarls, “You’d do it for Papyrus, wouldn’t you?”

“that’s bullshit, you _know_ that paps wouldn’t want that!”

“Well ex-CUSE me, mister morality, but it’s a bit difficult to know what Cha--what they would want when they’re FUCKING DEAD.”

“They’re not dead.” Frisk’s voice comes from the bottom of the stairs, a soft groan that despite its low volume catches the attention of both monsters.

Sans peels his eyes off the flower. The kid looks terrible--they’re exhausted, and the ever-present bags under their eyes look more pronounced than Sans can ever remember them. “kid, you okay?” he asks.

Frisk nods and starts to respond, but they’re cut off by Flowey. “What do you mean, they’re not dead?” he demands. 

“They’re... It’s like they’re asleep, but, worse,” Frisk says, walking slowly over to the couch as they speak. “Like they’re... in a coma or something.”

“well, that’s… good news, i guess,” Sans says, “how d’ya know?”

Frisk collapses onto the sofa. “Um. The connection between us, my SOUL… It doesn’t feel broken? It feels like--like it’s being tugged on. Like they need me, but they’re, um, too far away to be able to say it. And I can’t help them...”

Sans feels he needs to break this train of thought.“kid, you look terrible.”

“Seriously, you look like shit,” Flowey chimes in. After a glare from Sans, he quickly adds, “Right now, I mean. not just in general.”

“I’m fine…” Frisk mumbles. 

“seriously, kiddo. whatever’s going on with, uh, you and them, seems like it’s messing you up bad,” Sans guesses, “like it’s screwing with you. c’mon, let’s get you back up those stairs.”

“Sans… Just sat down…" Frisk groans as Sans struggles to pull them up off the couch.

“gotta get you back in bed, kiddo,” Sans groans, as he slings Frisk’s clammy arm over his shoulder. “if ya’d move those legs of yours, it’d be a _ton_ easier to help...”

Flowey preemptively groans.

“A skele- _ton_.”

Frisk lets out a halfhearted groan of their own, waiting for a chuckle to accompany it before they realize one isn’t coming.

* * *

The air is chillier today. Now that it’s well into fall, the sun is starting to rise later and later into the morning. It’s seven-thirty AM, and the morning fog hasn’t even been burned away yet. It’s these things you enjoy noticing on your walks to school. There are things you’d rather not notice though--the rising sound of angry voices, for instance.

Great. Protestors. It’s only the second time you’ve had to deal with these assholes, and you’re already tired of it. You can’t imagine what the kids who’ve been going here for years feel like. From the faces you can see, “frustrated” seems to be the answer.

You spot Kid pacing up and down the sidewalk across from the entrance. They see you, too, and rush over. “Yo, have you seen Frisk?” they ask, “They’re not here yet, and the bell rings in ten minutes!”

You frown. Frisk usually beats both of you to school. “No. Have you called them?”

“Yeah, but their phone is always on vibrate,” Kid says, and you remember all the times they’ve had to take a call in the middle of class. That makes sense.

“Maybe they’re sick?” you suggest.

“Yeah, maybe…” Kid sounds about as reassured as you, which is not much. They walk back to the group. “C’mon, we should probably get through the crowd.”

“Is Frisk here?” someone else asks Kid. 

They shake their head. “We’re gonna have to get through without them. Anyone else wanna take point today?”

A boy named Tyler who you’ve barely talked to volunteers for the position and the monsters start to line up behind him, with you and the rest of the humans forming a protective barrier to go between them and the protestors.

You just now realized how ironic this whole thing is.

Together you move across the street, slowly but clearly practiced, and start to push through the crowd. You really wish you could have had Frisk act as a negotiator again, especially as you feel the crowd pushing on you, screaming near the top of their lungs.. And they’re trying to say monsters are “disruptive to the learning environment.” What a bunch of hypocrites.

Eventually, after pushing through what feels like an endless brigade of racists, you break through to the gate, which despite being wide open, marks the line of sanctuary. “The protesters aren’t supposed to go into the campus anymore,” Kid explains, having to yell over the angry roars of the crowd, “so the whole thing mostly stays on the street.” You wonder what happened to make that a rule, then decide you’d rather not think about it too much.

English class is pretty boring today--you can’t really focus on Mrs. Byrd’s lecture about rhetoric, instead fixating on Frisk’s absence. You know it’s irrational, but your brain is not exactly a machine built on pure logic. You sent them a PM before class started asking if they were sick, but you haven’t gotten a reply yet and the period’s almost over. It’s worrying, because you assume if they were sick, they’d have their phone right next to them. That being said, it’s probably just the conspiracy theorist inside you thinking _Frisk’s been kidnapped, or they’re on a secret mission, or they’ve been abducted by the government._ Nothing you need to pay attention to.

You glance back at Frisk’s empty desk and notice something you hadn’t before. There's a three-ring binder under their seat with “English” written on the front in Frisk’s handwriting. They must have forgotten to bring it home yesterday. You grab it, shoving it into your backpack while Mrs. Byrd drones on about diction. You can drop it off at their house after school. (And maybe check on them while you’re at it.)

The bell rings, but your exit is cut off by the teacher. “Wait just a second, everyone--the bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do. We have a quiz tomorrow on the vocabulary we went over this week, so study those vocab sheets I passed out on Monday, and don’t forget about the reading assignment either, that’s still due next week. Ok, class dismissed!”

You hurry out of the classroom, eager to know if Kid’s heard anything from Frisk. You wave them over in the hallway “Any news?” you ask.

“Nothing…” Kid relays, to your disappointment, “It’s kinda freaking me out, like, they’re always so quick to respond, and now they’re just not answering. It’s weird!”

“I know…” you mutter. “Hope they’re okay. There’s got to be a reason they’re not responding.”

“Hope you’re right, dude. Man, I had the WORST first period… see ya at lunch?”

You flash a quick smile. “Yeah, see you.”

* * *

Frisk can’t sleep. Instead, they sit in bed, staring up with unfocused eyes as blank as the white ceiling. They hear the kettle whistling downstairs. _Probably for tea_ , they think. A minute later, they hear a soft rap on their bedroom door.

“Yeah?” Frisk mumbles.

Toriel opens the door, holding two steaming mugs. “I thought you might appreciate a warm beverage, something to soothe a sore throat, so I made us tea,” she says gently, setting one of the cups down on the bedside table. “You may want to give it a moment to cool, as it is still quite hot.”

It’s not a sore throat that’s keeping Frisk awake, though. They, nevertheless, manage to fake a warm smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I hope you feel better soon, my child. Get some rest.”

Frisk nods. They know Toriel is worried for them, that she’s putting on a smile that’s just as forced as theirs. They can see memories of her that aren’t theirs flashing in their eyes, and they can’t separate how they feel now and how Chara felt back then, and then they’re hit a thousand times worse because how could they compare these feelings of regret to the real, physical pain that _they_ had gone through. 

Frisk disguises their shallow sob as a cough. At least they have a good excuse for why their eyes are red and puffy.

Toriel leaves Frisk’s room. She’s holding onto the mug in her hands so tightly she thinks it might shatter, but cleaning up the mess might be a welcome distraction. She doesn’t dare loosen her grip as she walks back down the stairs. 

Frisk’s phone sits on the kitchen table downstairs--shut off, to prevent a certain flower from bricking it again. Toriel knows that sick children need their rest, after all. She just hopes that this time, it will help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a week late ooooof. I think I'm done with update schedules. I just can't get down an entire chapter that I'm happy with every week, and I don't want to post half-chapters with only one or two short scenes. That being said, I think I'm gonna still try to post updates monthly and write ahead of the curve.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, be sure to leave kudos and/or a comment telling me what you think!


	15. Unease and Discoveries

Math class isn’t loud enough for you today, you’ve decided.

The teacher is lecturing the class on quadratic functions, but he’s not commanding your attention, which keeps drifting away despite your best efforts--okay, maybe not your BEST efforts. Your train of thought cruises inwards, contemplating questions you know aren’t relevant, appropriate, or sensical, with those relating to Frisk’s absence top among them. Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and a thousand buried thoughts race to the surface of your mind. 

You instinctively reach down before realizing that, yeah, you’re still in class. Instead, your hand shoots upward. “Mr. Billard? I need to use the restroom.” He acknowledges you, gesturing towards the door, and you take your exit.

Once outside, you paw at your phone, checking your notifications, and you find a response from Frisk!

> _ FriskDreemurr: Sorry guys!!!!!!!! Mom wanted me to get rest so she took away my computer & phone… _
> 
> _ FriskDreemurr: Yeah, I’m sick, probably for a few days. Fever of 101 :( _
> 
> _ Kid: Wow, that sucks _

Looks like Kid beat you to the punch. They’re probably on their phone in class--typing with their feet probably makes it easy for them to avoid detection. You send a quick reply.

> _ ______: oof feel better soon _
> 
> _ Kid: I guess movies for today are off too, then, haha _
> 
> _ FriskDreemurr: No, you guys should just go alone. No need to wait for me. _
> 
> _ ______: you sure? _
> 
> _ FriskDreemurr: Yeah, it’s fine! _

* * *

Frisk is sitting on the downstairs sofa, wrapped in a blanket adorned with tiny Mettaton faces. It’s itchy, but they don’t mind. In their left hand is their phone, and they’re busy typing out responses to their friends. The scene would be cozy, if it weren’t for the bleak expression they wear, a sick contrast to the cheery exclamation marks with which they punctuate their sentences.

Toriel had left for her job about two hours ago. Fortunately, working as a school administrator meant that taking half days off was a possibility. Only a few minutes after they’d heard the door squeak shut, Frisk had slunk downstairs and made good use of the remaining hot water. In their right hand is a steaming mug of hot chocolate. They usually prefer tea, but the cocoa brings back memories of a surprisingly warm sigh of satisfaction, one that only Frisk can hear.

They already miss Chara.

_ It’s pathetic _ , they think to themselves,  _ but it’s true.  _ One day without the connection between them, and they’ve already completely fallen apart, even though they KNOW that Chara’s coming back, they can FEEL it. Frisk can’t bear to think about what that means.

If they did find a way to get Chara a body, would Frisk want to use it?

With that thought, guilt floods Frisk, heating them past their fever, and that’s a feeling that Frisk knows intimately, yet they’re still frozen, arms pulled into their chest, staying as still as they can.  _ This is always what it’s like after I RESET, _ they think,  _ it feels just like this.  _ And just like after a RESET, they know they deserve the shame.

After a minute or two of frozen panic, Frisk lets out a long wheeze. They start to count their breaths, shooing their mind away from the pit of dark thoughts it threatens to fall into. The ticking of the clock fills the silence, and Frisk focuses their thoughts on it as well as their eyes and ears.

Toriel had insisted on a grandfather clock for the house on the surface, Frisk remembers, despite their objections--they’d always had trouble reading a clock face, as every other one they’d owned before had been digital. They try to blink in time with the pendulum, counting the seconds until the minute hand ticks over.

It’s two minutes (and eighteen seconds) before Frisk’s eyes start to dry up again. The events of the previous night, though, keep ringing in their head. It’s their fault, they pushed Sans into it, and now Chara is paying the price. 

How much more will they suffer for Frisk’s sake?

Frisk knows that Chara isn’t satisfied with living in their head. They’re content, maybe even happy sometimes, but not satisfied. On rare occasions, Frisk is pulled into Chara’s dreams. Even less frequently, those dreams are pleasant. And in the rarest, most saccharine visions of all, Chara dreams in their own body with Asriel at their side.

But Frisk had, unknowingly, given up--they hadn’t given real thought about getting their friends back in almost a year and a half. And for the first time, they acknowledge it, without anyone else to hear--not even their closest companion, absent because of their mistakes.

They’re determined to make this right.

* * *

**HUMANITY FRONT - PROTECT, DEFEND, UNITE**

**Login**

**Username:** SOURCE

**Password:** **********

**…**

**Identity confirmed! Welcome,** SOURCE **!**

**New Post**

**Title:** UPDATE_10/4/204X

**Body** : THE AMBASSADOR IS TEMPORARILY INCAPACITATED. ALTHOUGH THIS MIGHT LOOK LIKE AN OPPORTUNE MOMENT, DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT STRIKE YET. PATIENCE IS HUMANITY’S BEST FRIEND, AND WE STILL HAVE MUCH WORK TO COMPLETE BEFORE WE CAN EFFECTIVELY MOBILIZE AGAINST MONSTER FORCES. WE NEED TO REMAIN INVISIBLE UNTIL THE MOMENT TO ACT.

INSTEAD, WE NEED TO USE THIS OPPORTUNITY AS A RECRUITMENT TACTIC. WE WILL INCREASE THE DISSEMINATION OF OUR MESSAGE OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS, USING THE PRESS COVERAGE THAT THIS NEWS WILL ATTRACT. PREPARE TO ORGANIZE NEAR DOWNTOWN, THE AMBASSADOR’S SCHOOL, AND THE EMBASSY. WE CANNOT LET THIS OPPORTUNITY FOR TO EXPAND THE FRONT SLIP THROUGH OUR FINGERS.

OTHER NEW INTELLIGENCE: 

\- THE VANDALISM OF “GRILLBY’S DINER” HAS BEEN DESIGNATED AS A “HATE CRIME” BY EBOTT POLICE.

\- THE EMBASSY IS CONSPIRING WITH EBOTT HIGH SCHOOL TO INSTITUTE AN “OPTIONAL LEARNING EXPERIENCE.” FURTHER DETAILS UNKNOWN.

KEEP STRONG ON THE FRONT.

**Posted.**

* * *

You never thought you’d be taking a quiz on magic. What’s even weirder is that you’d never thought you’d be doing this  _ well _ .

_ What is the main physical component of spells? _ Obviously light, you remember that from yesterday.  _ Which of the following is not a SOUL trait? _ Duh, intelligence!  _ Intent is a component in which phase of spellcasting?  _ It’s gotta be C: Visualization. You feel like Hermione  _ fucking _ Granger.

When you finish answering the last question ( _ Which of the following CANNOT be achieved using magic? _ A: Reanimating the dead), you drop your test off at the front of the class, striding back to your desk confidently. Mrs. Daos had told the class that if you finished early, you could do homework for other classes, so you pull out your English binder and start looking for the vocabulary sheet.

It’s not there.

You double-check, ruffling through the dozens of worksheets you’ve sloppily shoved into your folders, even looking through the pages of your notebook to see if you’d stuffed it in there, but once again you fail to find it. You really don’t want to have to do homework after school, considering it’d be late by the time you got home from the movies with Kid, but it’s looking increasingly like you’re going to have to spend the night studying rather than hanging out with Cocoa. (You’d sent them another message, but no response yet--their sibling is probably using the computer.)

Wait. You have Frisk’s binder, meaning that you could copy down the vocab words from THEIR sheet! You pull it out of your backpack, figuring that they won’t mind. They’ve asked to borrow your notes before, after all. You fold the binder open, scanning for the sheet you need, but Frisk’s binder is a MESS--everything is crumpled up. You unfold the papers one at a time, skipping the ones that look like they’re torn straight from the notebook inside, but even after minutes of searching, still no luck. Did they also not get a sheet?

You start flipping through their notebook. Maybe they tucked it in there--you can’t see it from the side, but the pages are so worn and crumpled that you can’t tell. As you turn the pages, you catch glimpses of what Frisk has written down.

_ \--not an accident because I think he was trying to-- _

_ \--can’t find out about us. Last time it went so wrong--  _

_ \--like shut up shut up shut up shut up omg-- _

_ You're not a parasite.  _

That last sentence catches your eye, enough to make you stop searching. It’s repeated about six or seven times, taking up nearly a third of that page, the rest of which is blank.

This is NOT their notebook, you realize, it’s their  _ diary _ . 

You quickly shut the cover. You didn’t read that much right? It’s just a misunderstanding. You tuck it back into its pocket in the binder, but notice that it doesn’t go all the way in--it’s hitting up against something. You pull the obstruction out, and immediately lose focus on your guilt--it’s the vocab sheet! You start to copy down the terms, and manage to get three-quarters of the list done before you’re interrupted by an announcement from Mrs. Daos. Guess the rest of the class must be done testing.

“We’re almost done with our unit on magic, which means that we’ll be starting Underground history in about a week. Now, class, I have a special announcement to make. Thanks to efforts from the monster embassy, we’ll be starting the next unit a little differently than last year.” Mrs. Daos pauses, grinning wide. “We’re having a special field trip to the Underground!”

What.

* * *

Sans has done more hiking in this last week than in the entire year before, and his fatigue shows: sweat is beading on his brow, dripping down his skull. The backpack full of Alphys’ lab equipment doesn’t help much, either. Despite his exhaustion, however, he’s enjoying the hike, the sun shining on his back, facing into the light breeze…

The company, however, he would rather not keep.

Flowey isn’t talking to Sans, or trying to provoke him as usual. Instead, as he trails behind the skeleton, he’s staying dead silent, which ironically, Sans appreciates. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, the radical change in the flower’s behavior is putting him on edge. 

Sans can usually tell what a person is like, what they’ll tend to do if certain things happen. He had no idea that Flowey and the other kid were… such close friends? He didn’t think a SOULless entity could be capable of that kind of relationship, to be honest. And the realization that he couldn’t really predict Flowey’s behavior? Well… it wasn’t exactly reassuring, to say the least. Especially considering what the weed was capable of.

And that’s not the first thing Sans has been wrong about, these last couple of days. He’s not sure if he can bear to hold a conversation with Frisk after seeing the aftermath of the “extraction” experiment.

The whole situation--it’s all too familiar.

“Hey trashbag,” Flowey calls, catching Sans’ attention, “Are you gonna keep walking? It’s right here!”

Sans stops, still staring into space. “heh,” he chuckles, “guess i’m a bit of a  _ bone _ head today.”

“No. Stop.”

“what? you’re always saying i’ve got a  _ thick skull. _ ”

“Eurgh! Let’s just start already, gosh!”

“you really wanna help? Sans turns around, and he’s wearing the most shit-eating grin. “no, really. i can’t  _ be-leaf _ it.”

Flowey’s face turns bright red with anger. “If you don’t pull out that vial right now, I’ll break your kneecaps.”

“no need to get  _ violet _ ,” Sans says, fishing out a small vial from his hoodie. Inside, a red substance swirls against the glass. Determination.

Sans can’t see the shimmering SAVE star, but Flowey can. He presses a leaf up to its surface. It’s less cold than it was before, Flowey notes, but it still lacks the warmth of the ones in the Underground, which felt like cozying up to a warm fire. 

“Okay, get the injector,” Flowey directs, gesturing towards Sans’ backpack.

Sans complies, sorting through the various “borrowed” pieces of equipment until he finds what looks like a comically large syringe. “this it?” he asks.

“Gee, I wonder,” Flowey says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Is the  _ only  _ thing that looks like it could inject something in that  _ whole  _ backpack the injector? Hmm!”

“beats me.” Sans looks genuinely clueless, and for a brief moment Flowey wonders if he really is  _ that _ off his game.

Then he starts to chuckle.

“You are really just taking every opportunity to piss me off, aren’t you?”

“can you blame me?”

Flowey realizes that no, he really can’t. He stays silent while Sans fiddles with the injector, screwing in the vial.

“okay, so the needle is gonna get into the SAVE point how?” Sans asks, “i can’t exactly touch the thing.”

“But I can.”

“oh yeah, and i’m about to hand you this needle full of dangerous chemicals. that’s a real good idea. what could ever go wrong?”

He does anyway.

“Oh, relax, trashbag. I’m on your side!” Flowey says, flashing Sans a cheesy wink. The skeleton stands back as Flowey sticks the needle into what looks like thin air.

“huh. that worked.”

“Of course it worked, you idiot. I’ve done this before.”

“guess you have, huh. ‘s so weird to think that you were buddy-buddy with alphys in some other timeline.”

Flowey decides to ignore whatever that means. “Gimme the rest of the backpack.”

Sans obliges, choosing to float it over with his blue magic rather than lift a hand. Flowey picks through it with a vine, pulling out what looks like a hospital heart-rate monitor and a bundle of wires. He mutters to himself while plugging everything in. After a solid minute of assembly, the injector is connected to the screen.

“You’re welcome.” Flowey grumbles. “Now we just wait a moment. The monitor should be able to read the SAVE point now, assuming you didn’t screw up and steal the wrong cables from Alphys.”

“first of all, i borrowed it--”

“No judgments here, but you definitely stole it--”

“--and secondly, i’m shocked that you don’t believe in me, buddy. after all we’ve been through--”

“What are you  _ possibly  _ referring to?”

“--you still don’t trust me to get the job done. i thought we’d moved past this, pal, i really did.”

“You were LITERALLY just accusing me of trying to STEAL THE INJECTOR?!”

After a few more minutes of the two monsters bickering, they’re both interrupted by a chime from the monitor. Sans glances at the screen, now displaying data on the SAVE point, then gasps.

“What is it?”

“no clue. i’ve got no idea what this means.”

“Euuugh! Just, let me see, idiot.” Flowey pushes the skeleton out of the way, then tilts the screen down with a vine to block out the glare. “Huh, guess Alphys' theory was right. The DT must have sped it up--It’ll be active in… what’s 189 hours in days?”

“like eight.”

“Almost eight days, and then Frisk can SAVE.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The clock is ticking!   
> Thank you so much for reading this! If you enjoyed the chapter, please be sure to leave a Kudos and/or a comment to let me know! I'd also love to hear feedback on what I'm doing right/wrong, and maybe even a guess as to where we're headed plot-wise(?)!


	16. English and History

Your parents have mixed feelings about the field trip. On the one hand, it’s an amazing opportunity--you’d be one of the first (non-military or government) humans into the Underground in a thousand years. But on the other hand… well...

“It’s a bad idea, is what it is,” your mom had said, “Just two days ago, on the news, there was the video of that man who wanted to bomb the caves… it’s like taking you kids into a warzone, I swear, I don’t know what the school is thinking!”

But eventually, you convinced her that there was no real danger, and, given that your grades don’t drop in the next month, you’ll be going to the Underground. Cocoa is going to be so jealous, holy shit. Talk about the ultimate dream for someone “into monster stuff.” You are totally going to brag--in fact, you already are. You send them a quick message. After a moment of consideration, you add Kid to the chat, figuring they’ll want to know too.

> _ ______: guess where im going in two weeks _
> 
> _ Kid: Where? _
> 
> _ ______: the underground babyyyyy _
> 
> _ Kid: WOAH _
> 
> _ Kid: That's so cool! How? _
> 
> _ ______: field trip for monster studies  _
> 
> _ ______: mrs daos is so cool _
> 
> _ Kid: Are you just going to New Home or further in? _
> 
> _ Kid: Cuz if you can make it to Snowdin you can see my old house! _
> 
> _ ______: lol i forgot how hilarious those names are _
> 
> _ ______: snowed in _
> 
> _ ______: new home _
> 
> _ ______: whats the lava place called again? _
> 
> _ Kid: Hotland… _
> 
> _ ______: lmaooo _
> 
> _ ______: but yeah i dont really know? mrs daos said shed be giving out the paperwork for it tomorrow so i guess ill know then _
> 
> _ Kid: Well if you’re going to Waterfall, you’ve gotta see the star cave. _
> 
> _ Kid: It’s probably my favorite place in the entire Underground, haha.  _
> 
> _ _____: oh? _
> 
> _ Kid: Yeah, it’s probably the biggest cave in the Underground, and it’s got rocks in the ceiling that glow like stars. _
> 
> _ Kid: And even though it’s in Waterfall, there’s an awesome view of the castle from across the lake… _
> 
> _ Kid: Hold on, lemme get a pic. _
> 
> **Kid shared file: “Survey.Cave_102.png.” Open?**
> 
> _ ______: wow _
> 
> _ ______: okay i really hope were going to waterfall cuz this is gorgeous _

You spend the next couple of minutes looking at pictures of the Underground on your phone. You think you agree with Kid; the ambiance of Waterfall is probably your favorite. The stone architecture of the city and castle is also incredibly impressive. You’ll have to ask Frisk what their favorite area is.

Frisk.

You still have Frisk’s English binder. And their diary. You were supposed to drop it off at their house on the way back from the movie theater. You should probably let them know you have it at the very least.

> _ ______: hey you left your english binder in class yesterday _
> 
> _ ______: i was gonna drop it off at your house but i forgot _
> 
> _ ______: should i bring it over tonight _
> 
> _ FriskDreemurr: That would be awesome thank you!!!! _
> 
> _ FriskDreemurr: Do we have homework btw? _
> 
> _ ______: no but there is a quiz tomorrow on the vocab _
> 
> _ FriskDreemurr: Well I’m probably still gonna be home sick, so… _
> 
> _ ______: lucky _
> 
> _ ______: i’ll be there in a minute _

You grab your backpack and shout, “I’m gonna go drop something off at a friend's house, I’ll be right back!”

Your dad yells back from downstairs, “Alright, have fun!”

Once out the door, you start off down the sidewalk, the folders in your backpack slapping awkwardly against your back as your pace speeds up. You take out your phone, double-checking Frisk’s address from the one time you’ve been there before: the party at the end of the summer. 

God, this last month has been weird.

The walk isn’t long, maybe ten minutes from your house, and when you arrive, you ring the doorbell. A moment later, the door opens, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s inside.

At least, until a grouchy, familiar voice asks, “What do you want?”

You look down at Flowey. He’s grown vines to carry himself around in a flowerpot (Floweypot?), which is very confusing since the vines look to be much more massive than the small vessel. At least, it’s confusing until you remember, oh yeah, magic.

“Flowey! I, um, was dropping something off for Frisk.” You reach into your backpack and pull out Frisk’s binder. Flowey quickly grabs it with a vine.

“I’ll give it to them.”

“Thanks! Um, how are they doing?”

Flowey glares at you. “They’re fucking sick, dumbass.”

“I know that--”

“So why ask me?” he spits at you.

Jeez, he’s snappy today, even more so than usual. Something must be bothering him--something besides you, that is. Or maybe he just acts this way when he’s not around Frisk. 

You take a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you…”

Not waiting for you to prolong the conversation, he gives an impatient “bye,” and shuts the door. You were half-expecting him to slam it in your face, though you bet he would have gotten a talking-to from either Frisk or their mom. You’ve seen videos of Frisk dealing with unwelcome comments at the embassy, and you would not want to be on the receiving end of one of their lectures. (God it is weird that your friend is famous.)

\---

Sans helps with the snacks.

Frisk finds that to stay focused, one needs two things: Complete concentration, and a never-ending supply of food. Having someone who can teleport between your room and the kitchen helps with the latter. And as for the former, well… A red SOUL has its advantages.

Granted, doing homework is probably the least impressive feat of determination ever. But when they’re doing research for a (boring) paper for their government class, they find that a little extra motivation to keep at it never hurts. 

They wish they were at the embassy. Doing important things keeps their mind off of the absence in their head. But Toriel had been clear: Get better first, work later. Unfortunately, due to the nature of their condition, that most likely meant no distractions until the problem was gone.

Fortunately, it’s getting better. Frisk can FEEL Chara slowly recovering from whatever had knocked them out. And thank god--if they would have had to stay in the dark, they don’t know what they would have done.

They might have actually considered RESETTING.

_ No _ , Frisk thinks,  _ mind back onto the paper. What ARE the counterarguments towards central economic organization? _

They reach their hand into the bowl next to them, expecting another handful of chips.

It’s Jello. Damn it, Sans.

“Fuck,” Frisk swears under their breath. They awkwardly slide their hand out of the bowl, which makes an awful squelching sound they wish they could unhear. They look to the left, only to see Flowey planted (ha) in the open doorway patiently.

“Keep going, this is fun to watch,” he says with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“How long have you been there?” Frisk asks.

“Oh, about five minutes or so.”

“And you didn’t warn me about the Jello?”

“And ruin the fun?”

Frisk sighs: they really should have expected that answer. “What's up?” they ask, wiping their hands off on their sweater.

Flowey throws Frisk something - their English binder, they realize - which they instinctively catch. “You got a package.”

\---

The rest of the week passes relatively uneventfully. You’re disappointed when Frisk fails to show up each day, but you understand that there’s not much they can do about it. Being sick sucks. But you’re even more disappointed by something else, something you hadn’t even realized had been bothering you until now - Saturday morning.

Cocoa hadn’t responded to any of your messages.

Were they ghosting you? You remember that when you first started talking with them, they would go offline for days at a time, but you thought you were past that. And, despite your anxieties telling you otherwise, there’s no reason they would have stopped wanting to talk to you.

No, you have to imagine that they simply don’t have access to their computer. Maybe their sibling is hogging it, or maybe...

From what little you’ve heard about Cocoa’s home life, it doesn’t sound like an ideal situation. Could it be abusive? You remember back to one of your earlier conversations with them, a small tidbit about being “trapped.” If their computer access has been taken away…

No, you shouldn’t be speculating. If Cocoa needed your help, they would ask for it. They’re certainly not shy. You try to push the erroneous thoughts to the back of your mind, instead booting up your computer. Maybe you can distract yourself by watching something. 

But five minutes into your show, you get an idea. An idea that sinks into your mind like a hook and demands your attention. 

You’re going to have to look into this one.

\---

**HUMANITY FRONT - PROTECT, DEFEND, UNITE**

**Login**

**Username:** SOURCE

**Password:** **********

**…**

**Identity confirmed! Welcome,** SOURCE **!**

**New Post**

**Title:** UPDATE_10/7/204X

**Body** : GREAT JOB EVERYONE! THANKS TO YOUR EFFORTS, WE HAVE RECRUITED A TOTAL OF 1000 MEMBERS! IT’S BECAUSE OF YOU ALL THAT THE FRONT IS THRIVING.

THIS MILESTONE MARKS THE NEXT PHASE OF OUR CAMPAIGN. BRIEFING FOR THIS NEXT PHASE WILL BE INDIVIDUAL, RATHER THAN ON THE FORUM, AS DETAILS CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO FALL INTO THE WRONG HANDS. WITH YOUR HELP, WE CAN RESTORE OUR SAFE COMMUNITY!

NO INTELLIGENCE UPDATES FOR TODAY.

KEEP STRONG ON THE FRONT.

**Posted.**

\---

You think you found the right video. It’s an old news report, nearly three years old. You remember a million just like it, frazzled reporters dealing with the new reality. You hit the play button.

> “Frisk Dreemurr, the twelve-year-old monster ambassador, has yet to reveal any substantial information about their personal background. But in order to find out more, we contacted Edward Rodriguez, a forensic scientist working for the state.“
> 
> “Hi, my name is Edward, and I specialize in missing persons cases.”
> 
> “Well, I guess what we’ve called you in to answer is: are there any guesses as to the origins of the ambassador circulating in the forensic community, or are you as stumped as we are?”
> 
> [Chuckling] “Well, it’s quite a strange case. The thing that most people can figure out is that ‘Frisk’ is most likely not their given name - there are only six people in the entire United States with that legal name, and none of them are twelve years old. So that implies the ambassador is likely using it for one of two reasons, either because they identify as agender--”
> 
> “Right, right--”
> 
> “--either that, or they’re using it as a moniker, maybe to avoid--”

You skip forward a bit.

> “--asked about their parents. Now, that leads to some interesting questions, because nobody in Ebott County filed a missing persons report any time in the last month.”
> 
> “Really?”
> 
> “Really. So if they had parents looking for them, the timeline - at least the official timeline of the ambassador’s journey through the underground caves just doesn’t match up. The answer is they were likely, um, by themselves before hiking up the mountain, falling into the caves, and.. well, we all know the rest of the story.”
> 
> “In which case the - the outrage about them living with the monsters could be seen as insincere.”
> 
> “Exactly, and this is where the conversation tends to get, um, a bit contentious.”
> 
> “Well, we’ll try to stay out of the politics and stick to the facts.”
> 
> “Amen to that. And of course, the flipside of this whole thing is that, if the official timeline isn’t actually what happened down there, why would they be trying to hide it? Maybe to hide their identity?
> 
> And, pardon me if I step a bit into speculation here, but I’ve talked with some behavioral scientists who have looked at, um, at the ambassadors’ movements and speech patterns and they’re speculating about some type of abuse, parental abuse. 
> 
> Now, whether that’s accurate or not I can’t say, I’m not a behavioral scientist, but it does certainly, um, complete the picture of a - a child who, perhaps, ran away from home and got lost.”
> 
> “That’s certainly a sad story, Ed.”
> 
> “It is, but again, this is all speculation, all guesses. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to know the whole story without the ambassador coming forward themself.”

You stop watching. This feels weird, like an invasion of Frisk’s privacy. And yet, you still have questions that need answering. Your mind is holding you hostage to this damn train of thought.

You type in the URL of a website you haven’t visited in over a month: Frisk’s blog. You type something into the search bar.

No results. 

You rub your fingers into your eyes and sigh. Damn it, you were really hoping that would have given you an answer. Though, to be honest, you didn’t know what you were expecting. `If you were right, it’s not like Frisk would have posted it online anyway. You reach out to close the lid of your laptop, and you see the same text as before on the screen.

> **0 Results for “** Sibling **”.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT LIVES.  
> I've been struggling with this chapter for months. Months. I am so glad that I finally have a finished product to present, and I am so glad for everyone who has stuck around and waited for me despite the delays. Hopefully, the chapter is worth the wait!  
> Also, I started another fic, because I have a problem. It's named "Odd Worlds, Odd Words," and it helped me get the motivation to write this chapter. Check it out if you're liking this one!  
> Other than that, I always appreciate feedback in the form of comments and kudos, so be sure to let me know how you feel about this chapter, the story in general, or if you have any predictions/suggestions! Thank you so much!


	17. Confirmations

Waking up is an odd experience when one lacks a body. 

Without muscles to feel stiff or nerves to feel relaxed, Chara’s awareness tends to return much more quickly than it would if their mind was housed in a meat suit. Or rather, if they weren’t sharing one. Once unconscious, returning to the space inside Frisk’s mind is apparently easier than returning to the physical world. 

But today, as Chara comes to, the process feels slower than usual, as if there were a force trying to keep them asleep. Nevertheless, they push through it.

Huh. Frisk is asleep. That’s not too odd by itself - they do that nearly seven hours a day. But the sun is up, and they don’t typically tend to sleep in.

Chara takes the “pilot’s seat” and sits up in bed. They check the clock on Frisk’s bedside table. It reads 10:10 AM. School started at 8 AM. Shit.

 _Last night was Tuesday, so today is Wednesday_ , Chara reasons, _That means whatever went down last night took us out, hard._

Chara sweeps their (well, Frisk’s) legs out from under the covers, standing up with a groan. They walk over to the shelf with Frisk’s old laptop - the one they’d been using - and grab it, setting it on the desk in the room before sitting down themself. They might as well get started on Frisk’s math homework before they wake up. God knows Frisk isn’t going to do it.

The first odd thing they notice when they open the laptop is the notifications: seventeen of them, all from the chat client. Despite the large volume, Chara mutes them - they can’t be getting distracted in the middle of schoolwork. They go to Frisk’s math teacher’s webpage, looking for the homework they’d missed that day, but after arriving, they pause. There’s something else odd, something which is much more concerning. 

There’s more than one day of missed work. 

Chara checks the calendar on the computer. Sure enough, it’s Saturday - they had been out for half the week. 

_Okay,_ they think, _Frisk needs to wake up NOW._ They pinch their fingernail into their thumb until it starts to hurt, then they slip into the background, leaving Frisk in charge. It’s Chara’s typical method of waking Frisk up.

Frisk blinks. “Ow, fuck-” they grumble. Then, realizing they’re out of bed, they pause for a second. “Chara? You’re back!” they whisper excitedly.

- **I’m… back? Wait. Were you alone?** -

“Yes!”

- **Fuck. I am so sorry.** -

“Oh my god, you asshole, don’t apologize.”

- **Sorry.** -

Frisk, nearly tearing up, takes a deep breath. “I missed you.”

Chara doesn’t know how to respond. Instead, they simply ask, - **I was gone for five days?** -

“Yeah,” Frisk replies, “Nothing’s really happened since then, though. Mom’s not letting me do any embassy work and I’ve been home from school.”

- **Home from school… Why?** -

Frisk pauses. “Um. You not being here kinda made me… sick.”

- **You missed me that much?** -

“Shut up! You are the worst.”

- **I would say you knew what you were signing up for, but no, you really didn’t.-**

“I didn’t know, or I didn’t sign up?”

- **Both, I suppose.** -

Chara can feel Frisk smiling. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

- **Yes, well, now that you have a voice in your head again, everything’s back to normal.** \- After a moment of silence, Chara asks, - **Do you mind if I…?-**

“Oh, go ahead!”

Chara steps back into control. After their absence, they realize, there might be a few things to take care of.

* * *

Since yesterday, your brain has been in full conspiracy-theory mode.

You’d told your parents that you were working on homework, but for hours, you’ve actually been scouring old chat logs, looking for evidence to support your crackpot theory that Cocoa and Frisk are siblings.

The day that Cocoa had stopped responding was the same day that Frisk had gotten sick. Cocoa had said they relied on using their sibling’s laptop. So what if the reason why Cocoa hadn’t replied was that Frisk couldn’t leave their house to give it to them?

And another thing: you’d never gotten a message from Cocoa during school hours, only on the weekends, late at night, or in the morning - maybe because Frisk always took their laptop to school, so they couldn’t lend it to Cocoa.

Even their use of a pseudonym fits in with your theory. Maybe they (like Frisk) were using it to avoid being tracked down if they had really run away together from abusive parents.

Too many things are starting to add up. You know it might just be confirmation bias, but you can’t help thinking that the idea makes sense.

While you look through the chat server’s history again, you notice another thing: Cocoa and Frisk are never in the same conversations. Another indication that they’re sharing a laptop. They also never talk to each other one-on-one, meaning they might have plenty of opportunities to talk IRL.

As you scroll, you receive a message.

It’s from Cocoa.

> _Cocoa: I apologize for my inability to respond to your earlier messages._
> 
> _Cocoa: I am fine. There is no need to worry. I simply did not have access to the computer._

Interesting choice of words.

> _______: glad to hear it_
> 
> _______: good to know you didnt just ghost me and run off to mexico_
> 
> _Cocoa: How do you know I’m not already in Mexico?_
> 
> _______: good point i guess lol_

You chat for a while longer, but you don’t bring up your theory. Not yet, anyway. If it’s true, that means that Frisk isn’t sick anymore. So if they’re at school tomorrow… you might have to start asking questions.

* * *

- **So. My valiant sacrifice - what did it accomplish?** \- Chara asks.

Frisk smiles. “The SAVE point - it’s only three days away from being usable.”

- **Only three more days?** \- Chara asks.

Frisk nods.

- **That’s… good.** \- 

Frisk can feel Chara’s stress, their worry that something will go wrong before then. “Don’t worry,” they reassure them, “Flowey is looking over me at school, nothing is going to happen...”

Frisk trails off, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air: _not this time._

They’d escaped the underground before. Frisk had been a pacifist before. They’d led the monsters to freedom, to sunlight before.

And then, nearly a year later, they’d gotten sloppy. They’d been forcibly removed as ambassador, placed in psychiatric “care,” and exposed the monsters to extreme suspicion. There had been threats, then disappearances, riots, and eventually, killings. The monsters were forced back underground, this time with guns rather than with magic.

But it didn’t matter that the monsters were already “gone.” The humans started firing anyway.

They RESET. And they were ANGRY. The next timelines were ones of dust and blood. Both Frisk and Chara fell from grace, and only narrowly avoided sealing their fate to darkness. They both still blame themselves.

Frisk knows that it only takes one mistake for a timeline to end. Three days is more than enough time for them to slip up, to (once again) reveal something they shouldn’t. But then again, they’ve been doing fine for three years. But they also both know about the gambler’s fallacy - patterns aren’t guaranteed to hold. What if--

Frisk’s thoughts are interrupted by Chara. - **You’re hyperventilating. Take a deep breath: In.** -

Frisk breathes in deeply--

 **-Out.** -

\--then lets it out. “Thanks,” they mutter, still catching their breath. 

- **Don’t mention it.** -

At that moment, a vine pushes Frisk’s door open. “What did you want me for?” Flowey asks from the doorway, before leaning in and squinting. “You look better.”

Chara takes the lead. “ **Surprise.** ”

Flowey smiles - genuinely smiles. “Oh!” he exclaims, “Thank GOD you’re back!”

-That was actually kind of sweet,- Frisk voices. 

“I was worried I would be stuck with just these idiots for the rest of my life!”

-Aaand there it is.-

“ **Glad to see you too.** ” Despite his crassness, Chara knows Flowey cares - even if he’s unable to feel compassion, he still gets attached to certain things (or people).

Frisk switches back into control. “So, you were just worried about being stuck with ‘us idiots?’”

“If it makes you feel better,” Flowey replies snarkily, “I was mostly referring to the smiley trashbag. Your idiocy is tolerable.”

Frisk, despite Chara cackling inside their head, remains stoic. “Glad to hear it.”

\---

You wake up early in the morning.

You brush your teeth.

You wolf down a bowl of cereal.

You grab your backpack and head out the door.

You walk down the same old path towards school.

You see Frisk.

\---

Chara had missed multiple days of math. This was a problem for Frisk, who could barely remember what a binomial was. Fortunately for them, their teacher had given them an extension earlier today due to the whole “sick” business. Chara, nevertheless, had insisted upon starting it immediately upon returning home.

Arriving at their desk, they pull out the worksheet, then groan. 

“ **Did you expect the quadratic formula to memorize itself while I was gone?”** Chara asks. 

-I don’t know! I don’t know how math works!- Frisk replies.

“ **Yes. That is, indeed, the problem.”** Chara quips, scratching at the worksheet with a pencil. “ **I missed maybe the most important lesson of the year. I need to memorize this if we want to have any chance at a passing grade.** ”

Chara pulls out their laptop, intending to search for a tutorial. Instead, they’re distracted by a notification from the chat server.

> _______: hey can i ask you something when you have a moment_

A quick distraction can’t hurt, right?

> _Cocoa: Sure._
> 
> _______: okay so i know that this is coming completely out of left field_
> 
> _______: but_
> 
> _______: are you frisks sibling?_

-What.-

Frisk’s mood shifts from half-boredom and half-confusion to immediate attentiveness. They’re in flight or fight mode - Chara can tell.

“ **How the FUCK did they get that?** ”

-You’re asking me? You were the one talking with them every other day!-

“ **I was careful!** ” Chara hisses.

-No offense, but clearly either they’re a Sherlock Holmes-level genius or you let something slip. And I DID see them walk into a pole today while they were on their phone, so that rules out one of the options…”

“ **Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… what did I say?”**

-Why does it matter what you said?- Frisk asks, -Just deny it!-

“ **Because, o’-master-of-deceit, if I don’t know what made them suspicious, I can’t respond to their questions.”** Chara begins frantically scrolling up through the chat log. “ **I’ve only mentioned ‘my sibling’ a few times… and I made sure to give no identifying information…”**

-Maybe because me and this imaginary sibling are both enby?-

“ **Frisk, there is a hell of a leap in logic between ‘they’re both nonbinary’ and ‘they’re the same person.’”**

-Come on, I’m trying to help…-

Chara sighs. “ **I know, I know…** ”

**\---**

You wait.

And wait.

The longer you sit there, the more sure you are that your theory is correct. After all, if it wasn’t, you would have gotten a reply much sooner. Once Cocoa commits to a conversation, they give it their full attention. “To do otherwise,” they had once said, “would be the height of rudeness.” (After they had said that, you had provided about twenty better examples of “the height of rudeness,” and performed many of them.)

It ends up being fifteen minutes before you get a concise reply.

> _Cocoa: No, why?_
> 
> _______: um_
> 
> _______: okay no offense but i kinda dont believe you_
> 
> _Cocoa: Pardon?_
> 
> _______: yeah you kinda just dipped for fifteen minutes and i saw you typing for like half that_
> 
> _______: listen im not gonna tell anyone i just need to know this is killing me_
> 
> _Cocoa: You don’t need to know. Trust me._
> 
> _______: okay so im right, got it_
> 
> _Cocoa: NO._
> 
> _Cocoa: It’s complicated, okay?_
> 
> _______: how is it complicated_
> 
> _______: like is this a half sibling thrice removed situation_
> 
> _Cocoa: It’s also not a fucking joke. Please._
> 
> _______: ok im sorry_
> 
> _______: whats going on?_
> 
> _Cocoa: I can’t tell you._
> 
> _______: i just want to help_
> 
> _Cocoa: I swear to fucking God, drop it NOW. That’s how you help._

* * *

Frisk and Chara sit in silence for a moment. Chara breaks the tension.

“ **I fucked up.** ”

-Yeah. But it’s okay.-

“ **Frisk, this is not okay. I fucked up bad. I fucked up really bad. And we were getting so close--”**

-We can fix this,- Frisk reassures them, switching back into the pilot seat. Chara doesn’t resist the loss of control - they’ve done enough harm already. “You can fix this.”

- **Yeah? And how do I do that?-** Chara says. Then, they notice what Frisk is doing. - **No no no that is the OPPOSITE OF FIXING THIS!-**

* * *

You get a video call request through the chat client. It’s from Frisk. You accept it.

“Hi,” Frisk says, “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooooooooh baby. This next chapter has been in my head for, I kid you not, six fucking months. It was the original reason I started writing this fic, and I can't wait to start getting it down. Hopefully, it does not disappoint.  
> In the meantime, be sure to leave kudos and/or a comment telling me how you liked this chapter! I always appreciate feedback and I would love to hear your guys' predictions for what goes down next. Thank you so much for reading this fic! It has been a pleasure to write for you all so far!


	18. Haunting Discoveries

“We have to talk,” Frisk says.

- **What the fuck no we don’t have to talk!** \- Chara silently pleads, - **Come ON, FRISK! You KNOW this is a TERRIBLE IDEA.** -

“Um,” Frisk says, “hold on one second.” 

“Okay…” you answer nervously.

* * *

Frisk mutes their microphone, then turns their head slightly, as though they’re talking to someone off-screen. Is Cocoa there with them? Holy shit, that would be a plot twist. Yeah, they’re talking to someone, alright. Though maybe it’s just their mom? That would be awkward timing.

* * *

“Chara, you’ve got to trust me. They’re not going to get any less curious at this point.”

- **So we just fucking out ourselves? No. There is NO WAY they could guess what is actually going on, so no problem. We just cut ties--”**

“But they’ve already gotten close… they’re worried. Worried people ask for help from other people, and we really don’t want to get other people involved.”

- **Isn’t getting other people involved LITERALLY what you’re doing right now!?-**

“But we can’t take this back, Chara--”

* * *

Reading the expressions on Frisk’s face, you can tell they’re arguing with someone. They have that look, the one that means they know they’re right and they’re waiting for the other person to realize it too. (They were wearing that look when they had to convince you that snails didn’t have skeletons.)

Cocoa MUST be there, you figure. Were they always in Ebott? Were they always in Frisk’s house?

Had they been at Frisk’s party with you, back in August?

You’re worried that you’ve fucked up, badly. You kept prodding at things that you really didn’t care about that obviously matter a lot to Cocoa (and Frisk too, it seems like).

If you could go back in time, you’d have just dropped the topic. But, at the same time, you’re still curious - and you hate it. Why can’t you be happy with what you already know, instead of ruining what you’ve got by prodding where you don’t belong?

* * *

“--And besides, if we just go silent on them now and abandon everything, not only is that an awful thing to do to them, it’ll ruin us worse than them knowing who you--”

- **How can you SAY that, how can you believe that after what happened last time?-** Chara snaps.

For a second, Frisk considers if Chara is right, but then they push on. “The last time was different! She found out on her own, and we didn’t even really know who she was! And she didn’t even bother asking us about it, she just went and told everybody!

“ _They_ are my classmate, and you’ve been talking to them for months! We know them, and I trust them! So do you, right?”

- **I…** **That doesn’t matter!-**

The hesitation gives it away. “You do!”

- **Regardless, we can’t let them know. It will ruin everything.** -

Frisk pauses for a moment. Not for the first time, they wish that Chara wasn’t so stubborn. Whenever they're at odds with each other, Chara never sees Frisk’s point.

Then, they realize what they’re going to have to do. 

“Chara,” they say quietly, “please, trust me.” Then, they force their consciousness deep underneath the surface, leaving Chara in control.

“ **Frisk! Frisk, Frisk, Frisk, I swear to god…** ” Chara keeps repeating their name, hoping they’ll change their mind about this whole thing. But, now that they’re done opposing the idea on principle, they’re forced to think about what would really happen if they just dropped the topic now, and eventually, they come to the same conclusion. 

Chara still hates the idea, but if they’re going to be honest to themself, it might just be the best shot at keeping this timeline together. 

* * *

You see Frisk stop arguing with (presumably) Cocoa, think for a second, then whisper something to themselves. 

And then, suddenly, their posture shifts, their head falling back for a fraction of a second before snapping upright, their spine straightening and their shoulders falling back. They’ve gone from a casual slouch to sitting on the edge of their seat. You see them mutter under their breath.

You think they’re just saying “fuck” over and over?

The muttering dies down, followed by silence for almost three whole minutes. Then, suddenly, they open their eyes _wide_ , blink a few times, and take a deep breath before smiling and unmuting themselves.

“ **Greetings** ,” Frisk says. 

“Uh, hey!” You’re a little off-put by whatever just happened, but you continue nonetheless. “I’m assuming you wanted to talk to me about Cocoa?”

“ **So. How shall I put this** .” Frisk puts a hand to their forehead, rubbing their temples without dropping the smile on their face. It’s slightly unnerving. “ **I am the one who has been talking with you as ‘Cocoa.’”**

“What? The fuck? Why… why would you do that?”

“ **It’s simple: I am not Frisk. My name is Chara. I am Frisk’s sibling.** ”

Huh? “What do you mean?” you ask, speaking slowly.

“ **I am going to sound insane, but I assure you that I am not.** **Frisk and I are… sharing a body, I suppose is the easiest way to put it.** ”

You freeze. What the fuck? Was this really happening? Remembering something you’d read online, you hesitantly ask, “Um. Is this, like, a, um, borderline personality disorder thing? Alters?”

“ **No,** ” “Chara” responds, with more than a hint of distaste, “ **Definitely not.** ” 

“Okay,” you say, still hesitant, “Yeah, I’m just…”

“ **Trying to process this? Yes, that is entirely understandable.** ” Their grin relaxes a tad, their facial muscles less strained. “ **If it helps, blame magical bullshit.** ”

“It’s a magic situation?” 

Chara nods. That… explains a lot and, at the same time, explains literally nothing. 

“How did you… were you… um…” you pause for a moment, gathering your words before letting them leave your mouth. “You’re, uh, fused together? How did that happen?”

“ **Well, my corpse--** ”

“YOUR CORPSE?”

“ **Oh. Yes. I may or may not be. Somewhat dead. In fact, it might be more accurate to say that I am haunting Frisk. Entirely benevolently, I assure you.** ”

You decide to change the subject away from, well, death. “So, you aren’t like, um, related by birth, then?”

“ **Oh, no, we aren’t,** ” Chara explains, **“In fact, I hadn’t even known Frisk before, well, I moved into their head.** ”

“And now you’re siblings. Somehow.”

“ **Well. Intimacy is inevitable when sharing a head.** ”

You suppose that makes sense. 

* * *

Frisk senses that Chara is getting less nervous and decides to ease the tension. -This is going great so far.-

“ **You fucking asshole,”** Chara hisses, looking away from the laptop, “ **Now you show up?!** ”

-No, I mean it!- Frisk reassures them, -They’re taking it pretty well!-

“Um,” you ask, causing Chara to glance back at the screen, “What is… going on?”

“ **I apologize. I am talking with Frisk.** ”

“So you two, kind of, um, switch out with each other?”

“ **Yes. In fact, the reason they weren’t at school for the past few days was that I was, well, missing.”**

“Huh.” You pause for a second. “I had thought it was the other way around, that you couldn’t, um, use your sibling’s computer because your sibling was Frisk and they were sick.”

“ **I suppose that’s a sensible conclusion to come to,** ” Chara says, “ **Especially as I doubt that you were expecting… this.** ”

“No, uh, I really wasn’t,” you joke nervously. “So how long have you been… connected?”

“ **Three years. Since the Underground.** ” 

That can’t be a coincidence. “Did you… Were you with Frisk then?” Chara nods. “Damn. So, uh, I guess you did get a chance to go to the Underground before me.”

That elicits a small chuckle from Chara. “ **Yes, I’m afraid I’m rather well acquainted with the region. Sorry to burst your bubble.** ”

There’s a brief, awkward pause.

* * *

You break it. “Um. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot tonight.”

“ **No, don’t be,** ” Chara insists, “ **There was no way you could have possibly known.”**

“There really wasn’t, huh?” you laugh.

“ **No.** ” Chara chuckles too, the tension in their face briefly disappearing before it returns, though lesser than before. “ **I must insist, though, that you keep our secret to yourself. I am not exaggerating when I say that Frisk’s… connection to me should be considered classified information. If knowledge came out, it would most likely damage their credibility as ambassador, if not destroy it entirely.** ”

“Of course,” you say. Then, a thought comes to mind. “Does anybody else know? Besides me?”

“ **Yes. Flowey knows.** ” That makes sense, though they should really find a more trustworthy confidant. “ **And one of Frisk’s friends--** ” Chara pauses, looking away again. They must be talking to Frisk. “ **Okay, okay, fine. One of Frisk’s friends,** ** _who I too am friends with,_** **also knows. But no one else.** ”

“Wow. This is an even more exclusive club than being in the Underground.”

“ **Yes, but I beat you to this one too, so don’t get too full of yourself.** ”

* * *

The next day at school is… interesting, to say the least. When you first see Frisk, you just wave hi to them, not trusting yourself to keep your mouth shut. You don’t get a chance to chat with them in English, either: too many people around. You suppose that lunch break will be your first chance to talk with them - and Chara.

The bell rings, and you dart out of class, grabbing your backpack and heading to the quad. Arriving, you spot Frisk, who waves you over.

“Hey!” you say, sitting down at their table. 

Frisk smiles. “Hi! Chara says hi also.”

You grin. “Hi, Chara.”

“So, uh, where’s Flowey?” you ask, “I thought you were taking him to school?”

“He’s staying home today,” Frisk replies, “he said he had ‘Bitcoin to sell…’”

You imagine Flowey handling finances. It doesn’t compute.

“So! I brought something!” Frisk exclaims, rifling through their backpack. They end up pulling out a stack of old photos, yellow with age. “Take a look!”

You indulge them. The pictures all share the same subject, who you first think is Frisk. But you soon realize that doesn’t make sense - these photos must be older than they are. Could that be...

“Is that you, Chara?”

“ **Damn** ,” Chara says - you can tell it’s them, somehow. **“On the money again. You should become a detective or something.** ”

“Are you sure you two aren’t related?” you ask jokingly, “You look identical. Seriously.”

“Pretty sure,” (and Frisk is back, you realize), “Just a coincidence. It _is_ really funny though, right?”

“Oh absolutely.” You hand them the pictures back, just as you hear Kid calling from across the quad. (There’s no mistaking that distinctive “YO!”) 

Kid rushes over, nearly stumbling before sliding beside Frisk at the table. “Oh my god I missed you so much!” they half-shout. They pause for a second, then ask, “You’re not still contagious or anything, I can give you a hug, right?”

Frisk shakes their head while you wonder how exactly that would work. Your question is answered rather quickly, as it’s mostly Frisk doing the “embracing” thing while Kid just leans in against them.

It’s also pretty adorable. 

* * *

**HUMANITY FRONT - PROTECT, DEFEND, UNITE**

**Login**

**Username** : SOURCE

 **Password** : **********

…

 **Identity confirmed! Welcome** , SOURCE **!**

**New Post**

**Title** : UPDATE_10/9/204X

 **Body** : IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT SOME MEMBERS OF THE FRONT ARE CONCERNED WITH THE NEXT STAGE OF OPERATIONS. WHILE I UNDERSTAND THAT OUR METHODS MAY SEEM EXTREME, I MUST ASSURE YOU OF TWO THINGS. 

FIRSTLY, WE CANNOT AFFORD TO SHOW MERCY TO THE MONSTER INVADERS. IF THEY HAVE IT THEIR WAY, WE WOULD ALL BE DEAD RIGHT NOW. WE CANNOT COMPROMISE WITH EXTINCTION.

SECONDLY, ANY VIOLENCE THAT WE MIGHT USE AGAINST MONSTERS IN OUR OPERATIONS IS NECESSARY TO PREVENT BLOODSHED. A DROP OF HUMAN BLOOD IS, AND WILL ALWAYS BE, WORTH A POUND OF DUST.

I ALSO MUST REMIND YOU THAT THE NEXT STAGE OF OPERATIONS IS TO REMAIN TOP SECRET UNTIL WE BEGIN. TO THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE BEEN AUTHORIZED: NO DISCUSSING IT WITH ANYONE - EVEN OTHER MEMBERS OF THE FRONT. 

UNTIL THEN, STAY SILENT, AND KEEP STRONG ON THE FRONT.

**Posted.**

* * *

The bell rings, and you wave goodbye to Frisk and Kid as you head to Monster Studies. In the excitement of the past day, you’d almost forgotten about the field trip. Not that you’ve become any less excited, of course - just that it takes somewhat of a back seat compared to magic body-sharing shenanigans.

Mrs. Daos is already at the front of the room when you arrive, drawing a timeline and writing “Modern Underground History” on the whiteboard.

Eventually, as the rest of your classmates arrive, she starts speaking. “Welcome back! I hope you all had a great weekend! Now that we’re done with our unit on magic, we’ll be starting with the comparatively boring history section. I know, I know, it’s not as fun as exploring bullet languages, but it’s important!”

She reaches under her desk and pulls out a stack of textbooks. They’re titled _History of the Underground, First Edition._ “Alright, everybody,” she calls, “Come on up and grab one!”

You’re one of the last in line, so by the time you sit back down, Mrs. Daos is already back to lecturing. 

“Now, fortunately, we’re not going to be going over everything - we’ll be starting with the modern period, marked by the descent of humans into the Underground and the resurgence of the monster-human war. Turn your books to page 242, and can I get a volunteer to read the first section aloud? Yes, thank you, Ryan.”

You hear him stand up behind you, and you flip to the page as he begins reading. “Alright. Uh… _King Asgore Dreemurr’s rule was characterized by increasing population density in the Underground, beginning with the relocation of the Capital from one end of the caverns to the other. But near the end of this migration, an unexpected event - the descent of a human child into the crumbling ruins of Home- changed not just the immediate course of the kingdom but the fate of all monsters._

_When the child was first found, they were taken in by the Royal Family, eventually even taking the name Chara Dreemurr. Upon--”_

* * *

> _______: hey uh chara_
> 
> **______ shared file: “textbookholyshit.png.” Open?**
> 
> ________: WHAT THE FUCK_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It finally happened - I wrote a chapter in less than a week. Oh and also, Reader is now in on the secret. We're moving along, babey!!! This chapter concludes the first part of this fic, meaning that we can start moving to the second story arc, and oh baby. If you thought the first section was wild, this next bit is going to blow your mind. (Also, if any of you want to come up with a name for the first arc in the comments, I would love it!)  
> In the meantime, though, I would love to hear what you think about this chapter, so please be sure to leave kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed it! I always appreciate feedback and I'm curious what your predictions are for the next part of the fic. Also, while this part's ending was mostly telegraphed, I'm going to try to keep the next big twist as much of a secret as I can, though hints have already been laid...  
> Thank you so much for reading! Until next time!


End file.
